The Girl Who Loved Draco Malfoy
by lilysxx
Summary: "Sometimes I wonder whether following the Boy who Lived lost me the boy I loved" Angeline joins Hogwarts in the fifth year and meets Draco Malfoy, but it wasn't exactly love at first sight. Reviews make me happy!
1. Guess what? You're a Witch!

I had been at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry for all of fifteen minutes and I could have sworn I already have a sworn enemy. Let's start before the beginning, somewhere in Kensington where I lived, and where my parents thought it was funny to spring on me that I'm a witch! And, what's more, they were both magical too and were sending me off to a magical school where I can learn all this magical stuff. What. The. Hell.

I wasn't excited at all. I gave up on magic years ago, I was fifteen now. Apparently though, my parents had given up too. When I was younger, they told me I showed no magical skill at all, not like their friend's daughters, so they assumed I was a _squib. _I did't like the word at all. I was told it means non-magical being born of magical parents. Personally, I would prefer the somewhat more affectionate term 'muggle', but a rose by any other word would smell as sweet, and no matter what I had no powers, so, in hope of sparing my feelings, they rose me as a muggle so that I may fit in with normal life. That was, until three days before I got my letter, I set my house on fire.

I was cooking, and suffice to say that I don't often cook and for very good reason. That meant, that when I added too much salt into the soup and got angry (what does a 'pinch' mean anyway?) I turned into none other than the hulk, went on a rampage and suddenly flames erupted around me. Not your ordinary cooking accident. It didn't take long for the 'Ministry of Magic' -or the wizarding government- to catch on to what was going on in my house, who then told the headmaster at Hogwarts that I needed to be educated, and so here I was, sitting at the Slytherin table, and I had decided that I hated this kid.

When I arrived, I was quickly ushered in to a room on the side, a hat slapped on my head which, after little deliberation, declared me to be in Slytherin, and so I was sent off to the table at the end, along with hundreds of other students, some sour faced and nasty looking but most generally chatty and excited, all catching up after a long holiday away. I entered the great hall tough without envy of them, I was too entranced by the ceiling of the place. Somewhere between wooden beams in the roof and the floor below hung a semi-translucent sky, stars twinkling from above.

"Amazing, isn't it?" asked a boy beside me, who was watching me crane my neck to stare at the enchanted ceiling. "Wait until you see the first years come in here, it's funny to watch their reactions, especially those of the muggle borns..."

"Oh, will you just call them mudbloods Blaise?" interrupted a pale, sickly looking boy. "It's what they are really, filthy creatures. Only thing worse than them are _squibs. _But you seem to have no problem talking to squib-girl," my head snapped up as the table around him sniggered at me, "Look at that, she answers to it too!" This revelation brought on a new round of laughs as I felt my blood boiling in my gut. How dare he?

"Shut up Draco." Said Blaise, his hand going to the waistband of his trousers where I saw a wand protruding.

"Oh calm down Blaise, it's not like the squib-girl feels anything..." just then, he reached out for his glass of pumpkin juice, and dropped it immediately, clutching his hand which had gone red, and it seemed to be painful.

"Flagranate Charm, makes anyone who touches that goblet feel like their hand is burning," whispered Blaise in my ear. I smiled slightly, though I was still furious at him, in fact, I _hated _Draco Malfoy.


	2. Meet the Roommates

I was in for more surprises of the wizarding world, it seemed, just as I began to head towards our dorms, whereupon I found that there were not only moving portraits (which I had seen in Diagon Alley anyway) but also moving staircases. I joined the confused first-years after a prefect called Pansy. As opposed to all the other students, who seemed to be heading upwards towards their dorms however, a sea of black robes and green ties was slowly making its way in the opposite direction. We kept on down and down, switching staircases as we went and fending off ghosts (for as I soon learnt, they are freezing if you go through them) until we reached a damp, dark corridor, on the end of which there seemed a wall. With no door.

Malfoy, a prefect badge flashing on his chest as well, stepped forward proudly. "Listen up, everybody! The password for this fortnight is pure-blood." There was a cheer from some in the crowd, and full bellied laughs from the rest. I didn't understand, but even the first years around me seemed to be laughing. I tried breaking down the word. Pure blood. Someone who is pure of blood. Magical blood probably. Somebody with two magical parents! That explained the Slytherin attitudes towards muggle-borns, those born of muggle blood. _Mud _blood. I truly heard the word now, somewhere in the back of my mind, Malfoy was sneering, _they really are filthy creatures. _I found myself confronted with true disgust. What and elitist group of racists! I was reminded of the BNP at home, a political party who believed only those who had been living in England for centuries past would be allowed to remain there if they ever came to power. I feared this would be the same for the Slytherin house. Why would I be sorted into it anyway?

The wall began to move, and slowly we were herded through the ever widening gap into a high ceilinged, cold room with a slightly greenish tinge to it. In many corners sat black skulls, high-backed, commanding black armchairs and to one side, a notice board. At the back of the room, two more corridors leading to the dorms stood. The kids all checked the notice board as if this was routine, and then bounded off to their own rooms where they were told their baggage would be waiting for them. As more dispersed and I got nearer and nearer, I saw that it was a list of dorm rooms. Scanning for my name, I found that I was sharing a dorm with three other girls, a dorm called SALAZAR. I recognized the name. Salazar Slytherin was the founder of the very house I was in. At the bottom, printed in bold were the words: GIRLS: LEFT, BOYS: RIGHT. ANY PUPILS FOUND GOING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION WILL BE PUNISHED

This information in mind, I made my way over to the left corridor, where a small stream of girls were going. I found myself descending yet more stairs. The girls in front of me went off one by one to the various rooms on the sides of the staircases, and I felt myself pulled further and further down until, nearly at the bottom, I found SALAZAR.

I entered to find another green room, this one warmer than the first. Four beds sat a little distance away from one another, and on three of them sat girls, all who turned to look at me in a way of half guilt and disdain which meant they had just been talking about me. However, one girl made her way off the bed and came over, hand extended to greet me, she even smiled a little.

"I'm Stella Wingtip, you must be Angeline," she came over and took my hand, leading me into the room. The other two girls stood. "This," Stella continued, pointing to a plump, mean looking girl, "is Millicent Bulstrode," and then, turning me in the direction of a prettier girl who I recognized by the glint of a prefect badge attached to her robes, introduced "Pansy Parkinson, who you're sure to have met seeing as she is a prefect, and well deservedly so." I smiled at her as if to agree. She didn't look at me.

Stella then shepherded me towards what I assumed to be my bed, as it had my trunk on it. The other two girls, Millicent and Pansy, went back to their own conversations. In the meantime, Stella showed me how to unpack. "The easiest way to unpack," she began, "is with a levitation charm. Watch closely." She opened my trunk and showed me a swishing and flicking motion she did with her wand. I drew mine and mimicked her. "_Wingardium Leviosa." _ she said, and to my astonishment, my spare set of robes lifted out of the air and slowly settled inside an open drawer. "That's second year stuff really, but it's useful I'll tell you that. You have a try."

I looked at her worriedly, I didn't really know any spells. I had spent half my summer frantically reading all the books from the past four years, and my living room had been turned into a rule free space where I was permitted to do magic despite the Ministry's laws against the use of magic in the muggle world for those under the age of seventeen, but I had been to focused on potions and simple transfiguration to go through all the charms.

"Not everybody gets it right the first time round," she said encouragingly, and then stepped back, apparently waiting for me to make my move. I felt the eyes of the others on me as I stepped back, drew in a breath and spoke the unfamiliar words, moving my wand in the action I had just been taught. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" amazingly, up came some of my clothes and right back down into the drawer, neatly as anything, for one incredible moment, hanging in thin air. I felt empowered. I quickly finished the packing, suddenly more confident, laughing and joking with Stella until a dull voice appeared over some kind of tannoy system, though there were no speakers I could see.

"_Lights out._" said the drone, and as we all lay down in bed and I head Pansy whisper "_Nox." _I realised that our only light source had been a glowing orb floating in the air. An orb which had just gone out, plunging us into darkness.


	3. Breakfast of Kings

Breakfast next day was a feast in itself. We were awoken by the same tannoy system and I was lead by Stella to a table laden with food. Everything imaginable sat at the tables, toast and eggs, fat sausages, bacon, pancakes, my mouth was watering the moment I began to smell it from the staircase. It seemed that, unlike yesterday where everybody was cramped in year by year, the table setting was pretty free. Me, Stella and Pansy all found ourselves next to three giggling first years on the right and a third year showing off a confundus charm on the left. However, the room was somewhat subdued. The Sorting Hat, it seemed, had done something strange last night, other than _talking, _which I thought odd enough, it apparently added a new verse to an age-old song.

_But this year I'll go further _

_Listen closely to my song: _

_Though condemned I am to split you _

_Still I worry that it's wrong, _

_Though I must fulfill my duty _

_And must quarter every year _

_Still I wonder whether Sorting _

_May not bring the end I fear. _

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs, _

_The warning history shows, _

_For our Hogwarts is in danger _

_From external, deadly foes _

_And we must unite inside her_

_ Or we'll crumble from within _

_I have told you, _

_I have warned you... _

_Let the Sorting now begin. _

This had been a controversial point of the evening. Even now, you could hear buzzes of it around the great hall. It seemed, that while the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were all frightened and disturbed by the message, the Slytherins were all excited by it. They all knew something that comforted them as the hat sang of perils. Something that made them smile in contempt and some of the older boys rub their arms. Malfoy, who by some awful luck was once again sat opposite us, was talking about it now as I was pulled back to reality.

"Hogwarts is in danger all right, I can't wait for the day I see that wretch Dumbledore beaten and the Dark Lord rise in his place. We'll be right by his side, won't we boys?" He turned to his companions, who nodded in vigorous approval. "As long as Potter doesn't screw it up," he added, shooting a look at a boy over on the Gryffindor table.

I looked over to find that mine was not the only head turned in his direction. It seemed that there were many other pupils who had turned to gossip about the infamous Harry Potter, who had apparently, after winning the Triwizard Tournament, had shown up with a dead competitor, Cedric Diggory, and had stuck to the claim that it was the Dark Lord who had killed him. Indeed, by the commotion still around it and the talk in the Slytherin common room it probably was true, but the newspapers had been speculating about who the real culprit was all summer.

Never mind about Potter," spat out Gregory Goyle, through a mouthful of just about everything on the table. "We'll get him soon enough." This was agreed through smiles all round.

The conversation was interrupted by the sudden sound of wings and the screeching of owls. "Post!" exclaimed Stella. Post? Surely she didn't mean letters and things did she? How could she possibly know whether or not a postman had arrived. However, I soon found that there would be no postman as the first owl swooped into the room, dropping a thick envelope onto the Gryffindor table. A flurry followed, multitudes of letters and parcels raining down into the laps of the recipients from the claws of owls. Amazing. I felt a slap in my lap, and to my excitement found a letter sitting there. I recognized the scrawl of my mother's handwriting on the front immediately, and looked up as if to thank the owl for delivering it to me, only to see that there were so many currently in the air, it was impossible to discern which one had dropped the letter on to me.

I opened it immediately to see that the envelope did not contain a letter, but a note on it and a copy of today's _Daily Prophet _and _The Times. _I read the note to find that my mother thought I should stay in touch with the outside world. It made me smile to know that she thought of my world as well as her own. Stella quickly snatched the Prophet from me, so I settled down with the Times, reading about the collapsing economy and feeling comfortable in my knowledge of something at least.

I was totally absorbed until I felt a nudge beside me as the bench croaked under the weight of yet another student. Blaise, ever handsome, smiled at me as my head snapped up. "Morning, Princess," he said, his eyes flicking down to the newspaper in my hands, "had a good sleep?"

"I woke up this morning to find out I hadn't been dreaming at all, it seems even a simple levitation charm can thrill me."

He smiled. "Unpacking were you?," he gave another look to my _Times _and cast a glance around the room. In a lower voice, he added; "I would put that away if I were you, not many people on this table are all that accepting of the muggle world."

I felt something like anger swell up inside me. Why would I, who had grown up as a muggle for the first fifteen years of my life, be sorted into a house where muggles are discriminated against? There was something horribly unfair about it all I thought, looking over at Draco Malfoy, a main culprit. He caught me looking though, and pulled a bemused face.

"Like what you see squib girl? I scarcely think that _you _have a chance with me, but you're welcome to look..." My cheeks flushed red as I quickly looked back down at my newspaper. That didn't help. "Oh, how quaint!" I heard again from the other side of the table, "She's reading the _muggle _news. Isn't it nice to see how involved she is with her own world." He spat the words 'own world' as if they were an insult, touching upon my own feelings about the wizarding world, and how it wasn't really mine. I could have sworn right then I would have stood up and punched him in the face, but as I made to do so a clock began to chime. Time for lessons.


	4. Separation from the Muggle World

**A/N: I took some liberties here with the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but the potions class is scripted directly from the book. **

My first lesson was potions, I soon saw as I looked at my timetable. It too, like our common room, found its place in the dungeons, underneath the main school building. As we ran down so as not to be late, Blaise gave me a rundown.

"Professor Snape, he'll like you enough, you're a Slytherin and from what you've told me about your summer, he'll appreciate your hard work. He's not a bad guy just... dull. You'll see him be pretty harsh, but that's just the way he teaches. Snape is one of the best potions professors in England, most of his pupils get OWLs, Longbottom probably won't." I chuckled, Neville Longbottom was a house joke, and I had soon learnt to laugh in good fun, no matter what my personal feelings were. "Finally, listen. _Carefully._ Do everything Snape tells you. To. The. Letter."

As me and Blaise entered the classroom, I was immediately confronted by a dilemma. Blaise and Stella immediately flounced off to sit down on one bench, Pansy and Millicent together, Crabbe and Goyle, and as my eyes swept over the room, it was clear that only one space in the front row was empty, and of course, that one space was-sod's law-next to Malfoy. I sighed and sat down next to him. He gave me a smug smile, I stuck my tongue out in return. We all settled into the classroom, and immediately fell silent as the tall, commanding frame of Professor Snape swept into the room, and cold gust of air suddenly ghosting over the students. He began in a drone I recognized, the one which had told us to sleep the night before. It made sense, since Snape was the head of Slytherin house.

"Today we begin the year with the Draught of Peace. A potion to calm anxiety and to soothe agitation Be warned: if you are too heavy handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what we're doing." Snape carried on with his monotone murmur for a bit, and then instructions appeared on the board and we were told to begin.

I lowered my head to my cauldron and began to follow the instructions, to the letter as Blaise had advised me to. I found myself somewhat worried. I had never even been able to cook before, now I had to make a potion, and a complicated one at that. As I stirred three times clockwise, two anti-clockwise, and left it to simmer for another two minutes, I looked up to find Malfoy, his powerful figure looming over me, looking down.

"Not bad," he remarked, "for a squib-girl."I looked into my potion, so far all seemed to be going as planned.

"Muggles mix ingredients too," I retorted.

"I wasn't talking about the potion." He said, smiling down into his cauldron.I glared at him for the few seconds I had left, but then I turned back to carry on. I'm not sure if my face was flushed with anger or something else; something girlish and embarrassing.

With ten minutes left, Snape announced; "A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," mine was doing just that, but as I looked around I saw that I was one of few, most of the class having much difficulty with the potion. Even Malfoy next to me was choking on the thick black smoke that was billowing up and staining his hair.

"Potter, what is that supposed to be?" I heard from behind me, I hadn't even realised Harry was in this class. I turned, realising that although nobody had been talking before, the room had gone silent.

"The Draught of Peace."

"Tell me Potter," said Snape sneeringly, "can you read?"

Malfoy laughed next to me.

"Yes, I can."

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter." I read them with him, _add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellbore._ He must have forgotten the hellbore, which made the vapour silver I had learnt. His looked black.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," I barely heard it.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, I forgot the hellbore."

"I know you did, Potter, which means this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco."_ I knew that spell, the potion must have disappeared. Just then, Snape proceeded to tell us to hand in our potions. _How unfair, _I thought, but I had little time to think as I wrote down the essay assignment and moved packed up my supplies, dropping off my vial of potion on the way out, altogether pleased with myself and off to lunch.

"How did you do?" asked Stella as we mounted the stairs. I saw that he normally straight black hair was now frizzed and her eyebrows were scorched. She had obviously not done very well, so, being a good friend, I decided to give her a confidence boost. "Yours must have been better than you, I don' think my first potion was a huge success." In order to exaggerate my point, I began to pat down my robes, getting rid of non-existent dust.

The last lesson of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by a teacher who was new to the school and who apparently came out of Cornelius Fudge's pocket. I didn't like the look of her, a middle aged, plump woman dressed like a five-year-old, complete with a fluffy pink cardigan. It seemed nobody liked her, as she soon began handing out textbooks that was certain, except for Malfoy and his cronies who accepted the books with impressive 'thank-you's and puffing out their chests. It was obvious what they were doing, trying to get into a more important position. Professor Umbridge= Ministry= Power.

"We will begin today's class with a brief reading of the most important laws in the Wizarding World, and they are those which ban the Unforgivable curses," Umbridge moved away from behind her desk and began to pace around the room.

"The first curse is _Imperio, _which will cause the subject to do whatever the wizard wants. It is a highly dangerous curse and is, in the mind of the Ministry, simply against nature. Man should exist to do whatever he pleases within the bounds of the law, and no-one should have the power to tamper that balance, hence the Imperius curse is unforgivable.

"The next curse is _Crucio, _which causes the subject immense agony without killing them. It is perhaps the cruelest of the three. We do have a young boy in here whose parents were both driven mad by it." she gestured to Neville, who shrank in his chair. "The Cruciatus curse is a truly evil and heinous form of torture, hence it too is illegal.

"The third, and worst of all curses is of course _Avarda Kedavra, _the killing curse, immediately killing anybody on the other side. There is only one case of a person having survived." There was no need for a gesture, we all knew all too well that Harry Potter, the boy who lived sat here, in this very room. "One had no right to take the life of another, so the killing curse is also unforgivable."

The room was silent in agreement, but in my own stupidity I felt compelled to raise my hand. "Surely it's not completely unforgivable..." I said, knowing I was already stirring a few students from their boredom-induced comas. Umbridge's head snapped up.

"What ever could you mean by that?"

"Well, surely if someone were out to kill you, you could kill them before they had the chance. If you knew that one of you would have to die for it all to be over, if you knew that they were truly evil and the world would be better without them?" I could have sworn that Umbridge's face at that point was the exact same shade of magenta as her cardigan.

"Do you seriously mean to tell me that you could condone the killing of another human being?" "That's not what I mean, only that in the muggle world..." "This is not the muggle world!" she shouted, frantic, "We do not kill people out of good fun here, we are not such animals as the muggles are! How dare you put us on the same level as them?" she stood silent for a few moments, fuming, and then, in a gesture far more unsettling, she calmed down. "Perhaps you would like to see me at the end of the lesson to discuss the matter further, hmm?" She then turned back to the class, telling them all to open their textbooks and begin answering questions. Although there was no talking, there was an immediate eruption of quills scratching on paper. Note writing, and about me no doubt. Shaky and nervous, I decided to look down at the book and begin my work. I paled at the chapter title.

THE WITCH TRIALS AND SEPARATION FROM THE MUGGLE WORLD.


	5. I Must Not Act Like A Muggle

As much as I had hated this class I had hoped very much that it wouldn't be over, for when it ended I would have to see her at the end of the lesson, and as composed as she was now, quite like this six year old I envisioned her as I was sure she could throw quite the tantrum. In all honesty she scared me.

Time is fickle in that way, however. It seemed every time I looked at my watch, merely a second had gone by, but it seemed like no time when the bell had rung for the end of lessons. As all the students packed their books away and hurried out of the room, a few shot me reproaching glances. Of course, I had been stupid in my persistence, but I definitely did not merit the telling off I would be receiving. I made my way towards the front of the classroom, waiting for the last of the Slytherins, Malfoy and his cronies, to pledge allegiance to the abhorrent woman. When she had practically patted their heads and stuck shiny gold stars onto their chests, I approached her. Frighteningly, she maintained her calmness as she led me into the adjoining office.

I entered to see the strangest room I had ever seen, and yet the only possible room for Umbridge to inhabit. It was draped from ceiling to floor with pink lace and doilies under dried flowers and in every available corner, an ornamental plate with a kitten on it, each with a different coloured bow around its neck. It was sickening.

"It seems, Miss Wint, that you have been raised in the muggle world far too long, and that such notions as the one you voiced in class, of which we shall not speak again, have been bred into you. There is only one cure for such and ailment. Discipline." she handed me a quill and a scroll of parchment. I looked at it confused. A letter of apology perhaps?

"I would like you to write lines." What was this, the eighteenth century? "If you could sit down, and write _I must not act like a muggle._"

The woman was clearly mad, but seeing as they were only lines, and I really saw no use in complaining, I sat, laying out the parchment in front of me. She smiled. Then I realised what I felt was missing.

"Professor, I don't have an inkwell..."

"You won't need it," she said, dismissively, turning her gaze to look out of the window, which was frosted by puffy pink draperies. Again, the woman was mad, so I decided not to ask again. As I settled down to begin writing, I thought again.

"How many should I do?" I asked. Umbridge turned her head, and although her voice was sweet, her eyes were lit with evil anticipation.

"As many as it takes."

It was threatening and ominous, and I felt a chill run through me to the very core. On edge, I began to write.

_I... _well the quill did not need an inkwell, as red ink flowed out perfectly, as if privy to some enchantment, which I'm sure it was. I found myself absent-mindedly wondering what its source was.

_Must not... _ouch! My left hand suddenly began to hurt, but it was probably nothing, only momentary. It was practically gone now. Clenching my hand now into a fist, I carried on with grim determination.

_Act like a... _that definitely hurt, some kind of sharp pain with every letter. I looked at the letters, blood red on the page. _Blood red. _I looked over at my left hand, to see something that looked distinctly like my own handwriting etched into it. I had to test the theory.

_Muggle. _I wrote the letters slowly, to see them all appearing on my hand, one by one, leaving a painful gash. I felt tears spring to my eyes as the true horror of what was being done to me became apparent. What kind of repugnant, immoral, hateful human being does one have to be to inflict this on someone else? I looked up, hatred and defiance burning in my heart, but my eyes filled with pain. She only nodded at me, smiling, insisting me to go on. I decided to oblige her. Grimacing, I put pen to paper again and began to write line after line, each time the cut becoming deeper, more defined and certainly more painful. I held back the whimpers in my throat and held my left hand into a fist until my knuckles went white. Finally, when I thought I might just pass out from the pain, she called for me to stop.

She walked over, her heels leaving a triumphant _click _on the floor every step she made. She grabbed my hand roughly and inspected it. Deciding the wound was deep enough, I was dismissed, and I walked out of the room.

I kept an even pace all the way out of her office, and halfway through the classroom, until the pain I felt in my hand became too much for me, and I began to run, tears breaking free and cascading down my face, my whole body shaking with anger and hurt. As I ran through the doors of the classroom, a strong hand took my arm and spun me around to face its owner.

I did not have time for Draco Malfoy, and his face was the last I wanted to see. Especially now, after the woman who's heels he had practically kissed had just done such unspeakable things to me. I looked into his eyes, not caring if he saw me cry, and saw something in them. Not a jeering accomplishment, more like disbelief as he saw my bloody hand, disbelief that anybody could do that. He looked back at my face again, pitying, and I found myself bursting into fresh tears.

He pulled me into him then, and allowed my to cry into his strong, well built chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed into him, appreciative of the warmth he was showing me as he pressed his cheek into my head and stroked my hair. It was a strange kind of affection I had never seen from him before.

When I felt the sobs still, I pulled away from him.

"You should get Madam Pomfrey to check that," he said, his voice cracking somewhat.

"I will." I said, looking at him for a long moment, thanking him in ways I had no words for, he nodded, as if to say he understood, and I turned and left quickly, making my way to the Great Hall for dinner, and then to bed, to lie down and try to understand what had just happened.


	6. Divination with the Devil

I spent the rest of the next few days pulled back to that moment in the archway outside the defense against the dark arts classroom, remembering. Every time my hand, which was now bandaged and cleaned although Madam Pomfrey said it would likely leave a nasty scar, occasionally burned, I would find myself in Malfoy's arms. However, things were unbearably ordinary between us. During potions, he would look at me with the same mock scorn, the same teasing flirty manner, all of it meaning nothing. I saw no more of the pitying softness I saw that day. On the upside, other matters concerned such as school work and social events were all going surprisingly well. Although for some subjects- like arithmancy and defense against the dark arts- I had little to no clue what I was doing, I found that Hogwarts was very much like normal school, and I was able to talk my way out of many situations.

Things with my classmates were going better as well, everybody had gotten used to the squib girl in their class, although it seems the nickname stuck. Bloody Malfoy.

As we sat opposite each other in Divination, another lesson in which I am unfortunate enough to be next to Malfoy again, as the universe's cruel idea of a joke, he decided to give me another nickname.

"How goes it, _princess_?" he asked, swinging his satchel from his shoulders and pulling out a book with a large picture of a grave on the front. I had not paid much attention to the cover, or really the textbook at all. Divination was something of a joke lesson. There were only a handful of students in the class. Apparently, Professor Tralewny had a bad habit of predicting a young wizard's untimely death every year. This year she had picked on a pale looking Hufflepuff who had run out of the room in tears. It seems that when she got to Professor Flitwick in a state of hysteria, he had let her in on what a joke Professor Tralewny was between the teachers. Nevertheless she had not returned to class.

"Princess?" I was snapped back into reality ready to bite Malfoy's head off. Blaise called me Princess. It was affectionate and sweet, and it made me feel at home to hear it at breakfast each day. However, I knew that Malfoy and Blaise shared a room, and I had no doubt that this was to make fun of Blaise as much as it was to make fun of me. The words became contorted in his mouth, they made me wish Blaise had never said anything, and they made me resent that wish.

"Shut up Malfoy," was all I said, I didn't have the energy to engage in this banter at this time in the morning.

"What's the matter? Pea under your mattress?" Personally, I was surprised at Malfoy's knowledge of muggle fairy tales. However, I was not about to compliment him.

"I think the matter is actually this pathetic court jester." I snapped, stirring my tea and taking a sip. Divination was really a quite leisurely morning excuse for tea and a lot of imagination and some conversation, although I was seriously considering making friends with some of the people in other houses, as reluctant they were to speak to me my being both in Slytherin and an ex-squib.

"That hurts," he said, clutching his chest and pulling at his robes. I momentarily remembered my ear by his chest, feeling his heart thumping...

"Oh Malfoy, how can a non-existent heart hurt?"

"Come on, Angeline, surely you believe I have a heart?" he asked leaning forward with a mischievous look in his eye, his voice low and husky. I started when he said my name, it sounded foreign in his mouth but there was something about it that I quite liked, the way he tasted the word, the way his tongue seemed to embellish it. It reminded me of all the loving and caring things I thought he could be capable of. Realizing that I wasn't going to answer, Malfoy leaned back in his chair, taking a swig of his tea. It was a comical sight, such a big, hulking figure holding a dainty china tea cup. my thoughts wondered to Blaise again...

"He likes you, you know," said Malfoy absent-mindedly. My face immediately flushed bright red.

"Who?" I knew very well who. The real question was how did he know I was thinking about him?

"Blaise does. He can't shut up about you. He talks about you in his sleep too. Calling out 'Princess', it's pathetic..."

"Shut up about Blaise." I said. Although I didn't find myself as excited as I should be about the discovery of another's affections towards me, I would not hear anybody call him pathetic. My heart sank as I realized that I only felt this because Blaise was a friend. Though I had no doubt that he liked me, I knew I couldn't like him back.

"Just," said Malfoy, leaning in again with the same softness and huskiness, "Just don't break his heart, ok?" he leant back and looked into his empty teacup. "I think I see a broomstick and a cup. That must mean a win for Slytherin in the house Quidditch tournament!"

I smiled and looked down at my tea leaves. Unlike the usual green mass formed at the bottom and would never turn out to be decipherable, I saw a very clear arrow. I was familiar with the arrow._ 'Your path is leading you straight to love'_ it meant. As I looked up, I realized the arrow was pointing towards Malfoy.


	7. Lineage

The weeks ran smoothly by as I began to get back into the swing of school life. I found that by now I was actually making friends. Pansy and Millicent, who were both rather vile personalities, had taken to asking me about what they were wearing on weekends, what boys they liked and teasing my relentlessly about Blaise. It was far better than their looks, ignorance and talking behind my back.

I decided not to let any of what Malfoy had said to me change my relationship with Blaise, so as we sat down for lunch after a painful few lessons with Professor Sprout about the many uses of Mandrakes once they're fully grown, instead of cringing, I smiled when he said;

"So Princess, what are your views on Umbridge?" Professor Umbridge had been the topic of most conversation these past few weeks, especially since she was appointed 'Hogwartrs High Inquisitor', giving her the access to every class (which she willingly took without any trouble with voicing her opinions and disrupting the class) and could make up any rules she pleased. Every time I saw the woman I hated her more and more.

In answer to Blaise's question, I raised my now healed hand. _I must not act like a muggle_.

"Princess, don't..." he started, hurt in his eyes at the horrendous state of my hand.

"I hate her Blaise, with every fibre of my being I hate her and the way she acts so innocent, but how she enjoys to see you in pain. I hate the malicious gleam in her eye as she realizes she's doing something truly evil, something that will make us detest her even more, but what I hate most is the lengths that she will go to to make herself hated, and that the Ministry is ready to help her get there."

"Amen to that!" said a voice, and it wasn't Blaise's.

Draco Malfoy came and sat next to me on the other side, still quite intolerable, but lucky that I had just been ranting about Umbridge. He looked a saint in comparison. He took a glance at my hand, which was now gripping the table, my knuckles white. _I must not act like a muggle_. He gave me the same pitying look Blaise gave me, and for a second I saw the same flash of pain I saw in Blaise's eyes as he saw what she had done to me. It was almost unbearable coming from him.

"Sorry to barge in on you, _Princess_," he said, extra loudly so that I felt Blaise squirm in his seat next to me. "but I'm not actually here to feel sorry for you or to complain about Umbridge, I have a message for you. Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office as soon as you can get there." he carried on with some grumbling about Professor Dumbledore and how he didn't deserve to be headmaster and Professor Umbridge and how she had given him such a good role and how he was grateful. None of it was anything I wanted to hear as I quickly got up and left the great hall.

I turned back to see Malfoy nudging Blaise as both their eyes followed me. Ugh.

I reached the statue behind which I knew Dumbledore's office stood to find that it had already been opened and was now a twisting staircase. I climbed it immediately, not thinking to knock, only knowing that Dumbledore expected me straight away. I ran in and bumped straight into Professor Snape. Angrily, he opened his mouth as if about to scold me when from behind him, I heard a kind, aged voice.

"Now now, Severus, it was I who asked Miss Wint here to come in such a hurry, do not blame her." Reluctantly, Snape nodded and left.

"Well, Angeline," he began, and I turned to see Professor Dumbledore, in all his legendary greatness. He had the longest, silvery beard that I had ever seen, and behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, the kindest and most vigilant eyes gazed back at me. "I fear I am a bit late in this meeting but I have had previous business to attend to. I would like to say welcome, and to check that you are not finding the pressures of wizarding life too unbearable. I have heard from many of your teachers that you have been doing exceedingly well, as if you had been doing magic your entire life!" he gave a little chuckle. "However, I would like to know your views. How do you feel you are doing?"

I paused, my gaze wondering momentarily to the sorting hat perched on one of the many shelves which soared over my head and up to the ceiling of the office. Was this the time to inquire about my house? But his attentive eyes gave me a look as of to say, _speak_.

"Well, the only thing is, I was wondering why I had been sorted into Slytherin when I spent most of my life in the muggle world, yet most Slytherins can't seem to tolerate them,"

"Ahh," began Dumbledore, gently nodding his head. "The sorting hat is never wrong, Angeline. It sorts according to personality, what is in your head and your heart. There are only two things which override this, _asking_ to be out into a house, or," and he leaned closely into me as he said this, as if he were sharing a long kept secret, "lineage."


	8. Dumbledore's Army

I paused for a long while, but I couldn't seem to understand what he was saying. When he saw that his message hadn't quite gotten through, he shrugged.

"Something to think about." was all he said, and I knew at that moment that the meeting was over. I thanked him and left quickly. Lineage? Who am I linked to? Snape, the head of our house? Or the great Salazar Slytherin himself

No, it would be impossible to be related to Slytherin himself. It was to be learnt upon joining the Slytherin house the family tree of its founder. Salazar Slytherin had married Cadmus Pevrell, and they had spawned many generations past that, however, the death of Tom Marvolo Riddle in 1998 eternally ended his stretch into modern civilization. There were no more Slytherins.

So what did he mean by that? I couldn't figure it out. Of course, Dumbledore was a great man, but I began to wonder if perhaps he was losing it slightly in his old age.

I walked through the corridor and back to the great hall, an arm became linked in mine and another step took up stride beside mine. It was Stella, of course.

"Why were you in Dumbledore's office?" she asked, her voice mischievous, expecting the worst of me in an excited way. I shook my head and giggled.

"No, no, nothing I did, just checking I was all settled in. And something about lineage..." I

dropped that in hoping that Stella could enlighten me without me giving too much away. To my surprise, she gave a little 'humph' at the mention of the word.

"What is it?" I asked teasingly, trying to hide my legitimate interest.

"It's just a funny topic considering our dorm. It was Slytherin's original room, and every one of his heirs have stayed in it since. All of the House of Gaunt and even Tom Marvolo Riddle himself!"

A stroke of dumb luck. I will not try and pin this on my intellect, pre-cognition or anything of the sort. Stella's telling me all this was a stroke of complete and pure luck.

I acknowledged the news with no more than an intelligent nod before our conversation turned to how unbearably cute Cormac McLaggen was, although in my mind the boy was a thorough pig, Stella (among most other girls) had a somewhat obscene obsession. It reminded me of Justin Bieber.

That night, when all the girls had fallen asleep, I crept out of bed to inspect the room.

"_Lumos_" I said, watching as a small orb of light flickered to life. I slowly began to examine the room. I started under the rug, lifting up every floorboard I could prise open, but finding nothing. I then checked under the beds, but still nothing. I looked inside the cupboards and on the door, I searched every nook and cranny, but whatever I was hoping to find was not in this room.

With the trail cold, I whispered "_Nox_", and then collapsed back into my bed and fell asleep.

It was the next day in Defense Against the Dark Arts that I realized if I ever was faced with dark magic, I might as well lie down on the floor and die then and there. My lack of magical schooling in the past bonded with Umbridge and her aversion to practical magic meant that I had never done any of the spells we had been reading about in the textbook.

I had heard whisperings, however, of a dark arts club, despite 'EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY FOUR' which stated that no clubs could be held any longer. The club was called DA, like 'Dumbledore's Army', to throw any unwanted Slytherins off the trail.

I heard about it in Divination. I was sitting next to a new friend, Marietta Edgecombe, who was beside herself with worry over the meeting to be held today, October 5th. She kept seeing Umbridge's face in her tea leaves, and someone reporting them in the Hog's Head in the crystal ball. I sat with her trying to deter her from going, to give her some peace of mind, but the more I heard about it, the more I began to think maybe it was a good idea.

When we were then allowed out to Hogsmead, I accompanied Marietta to the Hog's Head and listened with her to the explanation of how the club would work. Before I came up to sign my name, however, I hastily removed my Slytherin tie and jumper, hoping nobody would notice me. It did little, as my long blonde hair is quite a trademark.

As I walked up, I was grabbed roughly by the arm. Katie Bell had caught me.

"Get out of here, squib-girl," she said, and although her voice was low and menacing it seemed to ring out so that everybody in the tavern turned to look at me. Twenty eight pairs of eyes with hatred burning in them.

"Look, I don't mean any harm, I just want to learn magic, same as all of you." they weren't buying it. I sighed. "You said it yourself, I'm a squib girl. I lived as a muggle most of my life, I barely know simple charms forget any kind of defense against dark arts. You all heard the sorting hat. Our Hogwarts is in danger! I just want to protect it and myself, like the rest of you."

The room was silent for the longest three seconds I have ever experienced, until I heard from somewhere in the back, "She's telling the truth!" it was Marietta, of course, but little trusted her until Terry Boot, who helped me as best he could in Arithmancy spoke up.

"I believe her too!" he shouted. With that, all the people I chatted to idly in class from different houses began to speak. I found myself with a vast amount of friends, and a few enemies, as within the shouts were also shouts of distaste. Finally, Hermione Granger, who clearly had a major hand in the whole operation, stepped forward.

"Everybody, we all know Angeline." she said, tentatively taking my hand and holding it up. _I must not act like a muggle_. "She's on our side."

It was decided then. Signing my name as Hannah Abbott in case any Slytherins found out (and with permission from everybody else) I received my galleon and became the twenty-ninth member of Dumbledore's Army.


	9. TMR for BMB

It was a few nights later, October 9th, when I was to discover the first clue to Professor Dumbledore's hint about my ancestry. October 9th, my birthday.

In the morning, as well as my usual _Times_ and _Daily Prophet_, I received a long package from my parents, and I opened it to find a Nimbus 2001, one of the best racing brooms in the world. It was beaten only by the Firebolt, but there was only one student in the entire school who owned on of those.

Breakfast was particularly cheery, and all my friends had found it i their hearts to get me something. From Millicent she received a multi-pack of chocolate frogs, from Pansy a small fluffy pink thing called a 'Pygmy Puff' which she stole from Fred and George Weasley's room and from Stella I got what looked like a set of snap.

"_Exploding_ snap," she corrected me, "the cards spontaneously combust during the course of the game." she began to laugh at the ridiculous nature of it all, and I joined her in it, promising a game that night.

Blaise then came to find me. I didn't know quite what I expected from him, but it certainly wasn't the large, red eraser he showed me with a flourish. I looked at him. A token from the muggle world perhaps? His face broke out into a smile as he realised I had no idea what it was.

"It's a Revealer, you rub it over things and they reveal secret messages." That was nice enough, but I didn't understand quite why he was giving it to me. He realised he had to explain further. "Most of the Arithmancy textbooks have the answers in them written in invisible ink, seeing as they are so hard to come by. I thought this might help." I found myself grinning widely by the time he finished his sentence. This was perfect.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed gleefully, throwing my arms around him. He hugged me back awkwardly, but seemed reluctant as we pulled apart. I suddenly became uncomfortable as I began to remember that he liked me. I wondered if I was giving him the right impression...

Saved by the bell I thought as it chimed, signaling it was time for lessons. I looked around, finding myself in the completely wrong place. I had followed Blaise all the way to the dungeons, but Divination was next, and that was all the way up in one of the turrets.

I cussed as I ran up, but nobody took notice as my head came up through the trapdoor that led into the classroom, flushed from the run. I made my way quickly across the classroom, this time not attempting to make any new friends, and going directly towards Malfoy. It was simply easier.

"Happy Birthday," My eyebrows went straight up to my hairline as I heard it, shocked.

"You know my birthday?" He shrugged, looking down and twiddling his thumbs.

"The Crystal Ball told me." was all he said. He then did something odd. He slid his chair over next to me, throwing a glance over his shoulder so as to check nobody was watching. He then produced something from his pocket. I saw it glint in his palm. Could it possibly be-

"A birthday present," he said softly, taking my hand tenderly and placing something in it. Something metallic and cold. I somewhat unwillingly removed his hand so that I could see it, keeping it in my other hand for a second before bashfully dropping it. I then looked over to my gift and gasped. A gold bracelet sat in it, embedded with emeralds at regular intervals. It was the most beautiful piece of jewellery I had ever seen.

"It was my mothers, but she threw it out when I was little. It came from the Black family, but most of the family was shamed, my uncles Sirius and Regulus disgraced the Dark Lord, and in anger the bracelet was thrown to the streets. As a boy I liked shiny things, so I took it, claiming it my treasure." He looked into my eyes, as if meaning to say something more, but then deciding against it, and instead turning his attention back to the bracelet, deftly clasping it around my left hand. I opened my mouth to protest, it was too much, but he raised a finger to my lips.

"Anyways, you need something to distract from that hideous scar on your hand." he tried to smile and make light of it, but the smile seemed to hurt his cheeks, and he gave up. I could do nothing but stare at it in wonder, watching the light dance off it, as if it were a fallen piece of the sun. I did not hug him, as I did Blaise, but my eyes shone into his with such gratitude that he looked away again, almost embarrassed.

I waited with anticipation until that evening, glimpsing the pack of exploding snap every time I opened my bag. I also thought of the chocolate frogs. I had celebrated by birthday with friends before, but I could only imagine that with all the surprises it had shown me, birthdays in the wizarding world had to be better.

I entered my dorm at the end of the day unable to contain my excitement. Upon my arrival, the door swung open, small fireworks leading me in to see all my roommates had moved all the beds to the side and were sitting in the middle of the room with a large banner levitating above them, the words _Happy Birthday, Angeline! _written in bold letters which kept changing font and colour, spontaneously disappearing and reappearing on objects around the room.

"Stella made the sign, that's why the writing's going everywhere," said Pansy.

"Can we eat the frogs now?" asked Millicent, a greedy look in her eye. I pulled them out along with the snap and we had soon settled down with our feast of chocolate, some butterbeer snuck in by Millicent and a game of exploding snap.

It was in the middle of the raucous laughter when I found myself fiddling with the Revealer Blaise had given me. Just at that moment, the card in my hand exploded and a half eaten chocolate frog broke free and hurtled its way across the room, hitting me square in the chest and knocking me over. I in turn fell, moving the rug we were sitting on and dropping the Revealer, which went skidding across the floor.

As I, practically in fits of laughter, wrenched myself up and began to crawl to retrieve it, something caught the corner of my eye. I looked down to see something etched into the floorboard, fading fast. I snatched the Revealer and rubbed the spot again, and sure enough there it was.

_TMR for BMB_

It dawned on me slowly. _TMR_, Tom Marvolo Riddle. A piece of careless fancy scratched into the floor by two teenagers in love, but to me so much more was possible. Lineage. I had to find out who _BMB _was, tomorrow.


	10. Revelations

Thank the Lord for study periods. It was then when I was given a chance to go to the library. As I got up to leave the hall all the other students were working in, Blaise stood too.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. He had been giving me funny looks all day. I wondered if I had been acting strangely, the discovery last night had put me a bit on edge.

"Nobody knows the library better than I do." he stated, then reconsidering, "Except for Granger." I looked behind me to see Hermione stick her tongue out at Blaise's back, and then gave me a look. I knew what it meant. The galleon was already hot in my pocket, the date for the first meeting was set.

I looked around hopelessly. People were starting to take notice. "Fine!" I said, out loud, and off we headed to the library.

As much as I loved the school library, a large room where the books magically arranged themselves not only on shelves, but often in the air as well, it was far too big to know what to look for. I had certainly not been here long enough to find what I was looking for myself, and how could I ask a teacher without revealing the reason? I resolved then, on the way, that I would simply have to tell Blaise. Better now than in the library, where talking was barely permitted.

"..._TMR, _Tom Marvolo Riddle, but what I need to know, is who is _BMB_?" We had stopped walking now, Blaise looking at me in shock.

"You think you're the heir of Slytherin?" he asked, disbelieving. It felt like a slap across the face.

"_I _don't, _Dumbledore _does, or at least I thought that was what he meant. It's worth investigating anyway!" I exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him onward. We reached the library without another word, but I could practically feel Blaise rolling his eyes behind me.

He walked directly to a section I didn't recognise, and ran his fingers over the spines of many books until he found one. It was a large, green, leather bound book. The pages were yellow and wrinkled at the edges, and it smelt of mould. I looked back on the shelf it came from to see that there were three more volumes like it. They each were of the same width and the same worn leather, but these were in red, yellow and blue.

I looked again at the book. The title was embossed in gold, the tails of the letters extending out to the very edges of the page, twirling and cartwheeling over one another in an intricate pattern to complicated to follow with your own eyes. The words read _SALAZAR SLYTHERIN. _It was a book of Elders. I knew enough about them to know that all of the most prominent wizards throughout history had them, they detailed their theories, contribution to wizarding society and their family trees. I had no doubt that the latter was the cause of attraction for Blaise, attempting to teach me a lesson.

Indeed, Blaise flipped the book open to a page which contained a family tree. He dragged his finger down it, showing me the ends of all the different branches, how they all died out eventually. Finally, his finger came to a stop at the bottom of the House of Gaunt. I knew this all too well, yet he insisted that I look at the final name, no more branches, the last link severed. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

I shook my head. "We're looking in the wrong place!" I protested, dragging him along to a section I remember passing on my many attempts to find the right reading materials to help me with my essays. The student section, holding records of every student who ever went to Hogwarts. I went directly to the schools equivalent to yearbooks, (_ledgers_, they were called), and searched for the ledger labelled 1945. The graduating year of Tom Riddle. I took it down, taking out the revealer, systematically rubbing any page in hope of finding something. Mostly, graffiti had been written- presumably by former students- about the teachers they had had. I saw a few hearts around Dumbledore's name, he was a transfiguration teacher at the time.

I finally reached the students and began looking over the names, but my eyes refused to focus any longer. Blaise had become quite interested in my venture, looking over my shoulder at first, and by now sitting beside me, equally enchanted by the past. When I expressed my complaint he willingly took the book from me, looking for _BMB. _

Blaise worked laboriously for ten unfruitful minutes when suddenly he sat stark upright in his chair. He shook my shoulder in violent excitement.

"There are two!" he exclaimed, pointing to two pictures, "Belinda Margaret Boundsnout and Beth Madralda Bellast!" I snapped up, staring at the two girls. What were the chances? I looked at both of them hard. Belinda was a tough looking girl, with dark hair and eyes, whereas Beth was fairer, with a smile which seemed forced, plastic. They both bore very little resemblance to myself.

"Try the revealer!" I insisted, nudging him with it. He rubbed it lightly over both of them and chuckled.

"Batty Betty," he said under his breath.

"What did you say?" I asked, sure I had misheard him.

"Batty Betty, it's written right here under Beth..." my eyes were wide as I saw it for myself, indeed the words 'Batty Betty' were scribbled under the picture. I pulled my bag out from behind the desk, desperately trying to find my History of Magic essay.

"Care to explain what's going on?"

I found it, slapping the scroll down on the desk in triumph.

"Look at this!" I exclaimed. Our History of Magic assignment had been to find out about our own wizarding family's history, see if we could find anything interesting. "Batty Betty is what we call my Grandmother," I pointed at the family tree six inches down. "That's her, Beth Madralda Bellast!"

The overwhelming possibility had overcome us both, and we fell silent. If what Dumbledore had speculated was right, Betty had had a child with Tom Riddle, and I came the generation after.


	11. St Mungo's

**_In memory of my Great Grandmother, Teta Suzette, who always had lights in her eyes. _**

After a while of silence, Blaise put the book away, shaking his head. He didn't believe me. I tried to think. Batty Betty, my Grandmother. She married my late Grandfather when she was very young, and had my mother very soon after, soon enough, that it is possible my mother was not his. She turned into 'Batty Betty' during the rise of Lord Voldemort, when she began to go off on rants about him. "He's mine!" she would claim in her delirium. It got so bad, they sent her off to St Mungo's, and that's where she resided now.

"St Mungo's!" I exclaimed, excitedly. "She's there right now! We can go during the weekend and visit her! She'll tell us if it was her or not!"

Blaise looked at me solemnly. He still wasn't convinced. But for a second there, I saw a spark in his eyes, the momentary excitement we had felt- both of us- when we found _BMB_, maybe I could sway that part of him.

"What if?" I asked quietly, trying to break the film that had fallen over his eyes, making him feel distant. I took his hand, drawing him back. He blinked, as if stepping into a bright light.

"What if..." he repeated, hypnotically. I saw cogs begin to turn in his head. The endless possibilities of that question began to unravel themselves. What if the heir of Slytherin returned? What would that bring to the school? Fame? Infamy? What would that mean about me? It would be... a relief. To know that I was a Slytherin in blood and not heart. I began to feel a warm kind of hope steal over me. What if, what if, what if.

Slowly, Blaise nodded. "St Mungo's." was all he said, but it was all I needed. The affirmation.

"This Saturday," I agreed, and the clocks began to chime, slightly muted by the library's silent atmosphere.

I wrote the next day to my grandmother Betty. There was something about her. While I had been told since I was young that she was mad, she never seemed so to me. She was always friendly, but more than that. As if she _knew _something that I didn't, she always had a secret. It was ignited in her eyes, and as a child she would lean into me, draw me in as if to share it. She was a brilliantly eccentric woman, but no, not mad.

It was only when my fondness for my grandmother became apparent that I was forbidden to see her. My parents used to take me up every three moths or so- blindfolded like some kind of 'adventure', but actually so as not to upset me- and began to worry at the things she would tell me. She would always speak to me of a boy, one like I should hope to find, who was the kindest, gentlest person she had ever loved. When I told my friends, my parents would visibly squirm, but I remained oblivious about whom she was referring. The last time I saw her, she was telling me of the time she snuck into his room, when my mother snatched me away from her, telling her to stop. My memory stops precisely at that moment, it must have been tampered with by a Ministry agent, and I never saw Betty again.

I think I missed her.

No matter, I would soon reunite with Betty, and this time I will listen much more carefully about what she was trying to tell me, the secret that burned in her semi-feverish touch as she would take my hand and hiss at me; "Listen to me child! Love is something well worth finding. Nothing lasts, but you must treasure it for the time that it lives, and never resent it when it perishes."

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies has a somewhat dull exterior. A condemned building in London called Purge and Dowse Ltd. In order to enter the hospital, one must step through a broken window, but the inside is quite remarkable. It is a large hospital, which houses in it every ill and injured wizard in Britain who needs the attention. In comparison to the muggle population, that wasn't much.

With Blaise behind me, I began to make my way through the endless corridors, I found myself back in my childhood, playing _don't step between the lines_, a way my parents devised to stop me from looking up and around me. I walked along the familiar path on the tiles of St Mungo's pristine white floor, relearning my way along the slight slants and abnormalities which made my path. On the fourth floor up, I finally- for the first time- looked up. Above me was a sign. _SPELL DAMAGE WARD_ it read.

I began to walk towards the North Wing, knowing instinctively without the floor as my guide that that was my desired direction. Looking around, I couldn't believe what I had been missing. Through slightly-ajar doors, I saw patients with the oddest conditions. A man with a nose that had grown three times its size and taken on an unnatural green colour turned to me as I peeked inside. I turned away immediately, quickening my pace. Past me then walked a man whose very shoes seemed to be biting his toes. Finally, we reached the room I knew to be the one.

As I raised my hand to knock, an older woman, a healer paused and looked at me.

"What are you doing?" She asked, not accusingly, but in that half-patronising interest nurses take on. "Ms Bellast doesn't like visitors." She said, frowning down her nose.

"It's fine, I'm her granddaughter," I explained.

The woman looked at me with an extended glance. "Angeline?" She finally asked.

"Yes..." I did not recognise the woman, but she seemed to remember me.

"We haven't seen you for a while Angeline! What are you doing here without your par-" at that point, she evidently spotted the wand that was protruding from my waistband. "Oh, Angeline! You are a witch, I knew it! I am so happy for you!" The unexpected exclamation from the healer drew some attention, and presently another healer, a more portly healer with a nasty expression waddled over.

"Really, Pauline, what is the meaning of this? What is it you want, Dearie?" She spoke with a Yorkshire accent, and said the word 'Dearie' with a kind of impatience.

"Just to see my Grandmother, Betty Bellast." The woman's brow furrowed and she huffed angrily, and Pauline put a hand on her arm.

"Now, now, Mathilde, Betty is a sweet lady,"

"She's a waste of a bed. She's mad, not charmed. There's nothing we can do for her here. I don't care what circumstances she came here under." With that, the woman waddled off, stomping slightly more than her rotunde figure necessarily had to.

"What circumstances?" I asked, puzzled.

"Your Grandmother was brought here, a young girl. She was pregnant with your mother at the time, I suppose your Grandfather was already dead. Your mother practically grew up here until she started going to Hogwarts."

"Brought? Who brought her here?" Pauline just shook her head.

"I never saw him when I took her, he was wearing a cloak that entirely covered him. However, when he passed her to me, I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were so young, so... scared. 'I've ruined her.' he said to me, and I promised then, I promised I would take care of her. Then he was gone." She shook her head. "No matter, go on in. She should be awake."

Me and Blaise went in, shutting the door behind us. The room was bare. No pictures lined the walls or the table and chair in the corner, no flowers sat in a vase, only a bed and inside it, a frail old woman. She was dying quite possibly, but as I looked at her, her back straightened and something kindled in her eyes once again. No, not dying. Just as I remembered her. Betty.

I ran to her, five years old again, and wrapped my arms around her. She began to giggle hysterically.

"Angie! My Angie!" she kept shouting, "Ok, you're strangling me child, who is this?" she was suddenly distracted by Blaise. He stepped forward.

"Blaise Zabini, Ms Bellast, I'm Angie- Angeline's friend." She turned to me and gave me a look. _Is this the one? _I shook my head furiously. She chuckled again.

"Why are you here, Angie, your mother would be wild if she found out. I received your owl, I'm, so happy you're finally at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, we were actually here to talk to you about Hogwarts, about your time there. Grandma, tell me about my Grandfather."

She paused, "Your Grandfather was a good man, sweetheart. It was such a shame you never got to meet him. He was a lovely husband to me..."

I shook my head. "No, Grandma. My _real _Grandfather. You told me about him so many times. I want to hear it again."

She looked at me for a long while, trying to feign confusion. I stared back defiantly until a tear began to roll down her cheek.

"Your Grandfather was a good man, a _wonderful_, kind, sweet man. And I loved him very much. I know he loved me to. No matter how dark he was, not matter what he did to push me away, he would always pull me back eventually. But no, he was not the man I married. You know what I say. Love is something well worth finding. Nothing lasts, but you must treasure it for the time that it lives, and never resent it when it perishes. Both my loves have perished, but your true Grandfather, he's the one I miss most."

"His name," Blaise finally said. I was almost startled, having forgotten that he was in the room. He was much more stunned then I was to hear about my Grandfather. I had kept the stories in my heart for all this time, but this was the first time he had heard them.

"Tom," she said, lowering her head back into the pillow, her eyes drooping. "My Riddle.


	12. The Chamber of Secrets

The return home was somewhat more subdued than I had expected it to be. For some reason, I had imagined that Blaise would be delighted, excited as I was. Instead, as we made our way back to Hogwarts, he seemed pensive.

When we reached King's Cross where the train would be waiting to take all those who had gone home for the weekend back to school, he finally spoke.

"Wow," was all he said.

"I know," I replied. It was probably a lot for him to take in.

"I know you're burning to say you told me so, but we still can't be completely sure..." I whipped my head around to glare at him. Why was he always so cynical? Surely this was all the proof he needed!

"Seriously?" I exclaimed, feeling my face flush with anger, "Was that not enough for you? Would you like to see it in writing?" My hands clenched at my sides, itching to slap him square in the face. He put out a hand towards me. I recoiled. He retracted it.

"It's not that Princess, it's just, why do you have to be right? Why does this mean so much to you?" I paused. Good question.

"It's just that... I don't get it. I don't get the Slytherin house. I don't get how you can all hate muggles so much. I don't get your whole idolatry of the Dark Lord. I don't get why you're all so mean, and why _I _had to be sorted into it. Why I couldn't be friends with everybody in the other houses and be welcomed, not fought. Why I couldn't cheer in a quidditch match when two _different_ houses were playing. I just don't get people like that, people like... like..."

"Me." Blaise's voice was thicker than before. I looked up to see tears glistening in his eyes. He blinked them away, and looked down. I felt my anger flood away and my heart sink to the soles of my shoes.

"Blaise, I-" but there was nothing I could say. "I just want to know why." He nodded, still not meeting my eyes.

We sat in the carriage for hours, the air so tense that everybody who peeked into our carriage to see if there was a spare seat quickly pretended they had never seen anything and walked away. Because that was really the question wasn't it. It wasn't why did I want to be right, it was, what if I was wrong? What then?

After a while, however, Blaise seemed to have a thought. As the idea dawned on him, the tension lifted, the usual brightness returning to his face. I looked up, curious.

"There's a definitive test!" I had had quite enough of this disbelief, but reluctant to start another fight, I feigned interest in what he had to say.

"Hmm?"

"Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" I shook my head, "Well, there was this legend that when Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts, he left behind him a Chamber, in it containing a beast which would rid the school of all those with impure blood. He swore that his heir would one day return to open it. It has been opened twice, both times by your- alleged- grandfather. The second time, something happened and the creature was destroyed, but one thing remains. The heir, any heir, can still open the chamber. And I know where it is."

I felt my heart begin to race. The question melting out of my head. The train pulled up, and up ahead I saw a few boats already making their way across the Black Lake. There were no carriages pulled by thin air for weekend returnees.

"Take me there," I said to Blaise as we disembarked the train, and we immediately made our way to a boat and began to row towards the majestic castle along the cold, black lake.

We walked up the stairs to the second floor, and then Blaise took me towards a place I had yet since avoided. He began to enter when I pulled him back out.

"What are you _doing?_" I hissed. "This is the _girl's _bathroom!"He laughed, as if in on a joke I wasn't.

"Nobody goes in here," he said, striding in.

"Why?" I asked, tentatively following.

"I'm why!" said a high-pitched, whiny voice. Blaise rolled his eyes as an iridescent girl swooped down in front of me, hanging in mid air. I still hadn't quite gotten used to ghosts, it was hard enough looking at the Bloody Baron, but seeing a girl younger than myself, it was... surreal.

"Angeline, this is Myrtle."

"Why don't you tell her my _real _name, boy?" The girl flew up to the ceiling, screeching all the way. "It's _moaning _Myrtle. Isn't that what you all call me?" she perched on top of one of the stalls, dabbing away non-existent tears and sniffling a little bit. I was finding her increasingly annoying.

"Of course not, Myrtle," he said submissively, turning away from her, taking my hand with little hesitation and leading me over to the sinks. "This is the entrance," he said, placing my hand on one of the silver taps, shaped in the form of a snake.

I stood there for a second, Blaise's hand having moved to rest on my lower back. I shifted under its pressure, uncomfortable with his confidence in touching me. Did he know I wasn't interested? I focused on the tap, trying as hard as I could to figure out what to do. I turned the knob. Nothing happened. Behind me I heard an unsettling sound which I think was a giggle, coming from Myrtle's direction.

"_That _tap has never worked! Honestly, completely hopeless!" she fell back in fits of laughter, bending over backwards and falling with a splash into one of the toilets. I shook my head, turning the tap back despite the fact it would never run.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, finally surrendering.

"How about you... tell it to open?" I snorted at this, but turned back to see Blaise's face earnest. I shook my head, rolled my eyes and then said feebly,

"Open."

Nothing. I turned back to Blaise. He paused, and then leant in closer to my ear from behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me shiver.

"Don't say it to me, say it to the snake." I would have laughed had I not heard the sincerity in Blaise's voice. I took a deep breath, and stared at the snake.

"Open." I said again. This time, I heard a click. And then another, and then another, until I saw the very structure of the sinks begin to shift- just like the wall leading to Diagon Alley- until it became a large chasm. The entrance.

We both stood stunned, until Blaise finally spoke.

"It _is _you. You're the heir!"

"It's me," I repeated, relieved and amazed.

"It's you." I heard another voice, not Myrtle, but a male voice behind us. I spun on my heel to see Malfoy. He looked from me, to Blaise, to Blaise's hand on my waist, and back to me again. I quickly shimmied out from under Blaise's grip. Then I looked at Malfoy. Tears shimmered in his eyes. I didn't understand. I extended an arm to comfort him, but he turned away, fleeing the scene. My heart practically tore watching him go.

"Draco!" I called, making to go after him, when Blaise's hand snatched me, spinning me around to face him.

"Don't go," he said, his face pleading. I jerked away from him, but he held fast, stepping towards me. "Look, I can see it, alright? I can see when you look at him, I can see how you feel, because it's how I feel about you."

"Blaise-" I protested, but he cut me off.

"You could have me, if you wanted. I'm right here, and I'll do anything for you. Please, Princess. Choose me. I need you." He stared at me with big, brown, sad eyes, imploring me to stay. But each second I wasted I saw Draco in my mind's eye, running down the stairs, farther and farther out of sight to a point where I wouldn't know where to find him. I pulled away from Blaise again. This time, he didn't resist. I turned to leave.

"You've made your choice, then?" He asked. I nodded, turning, unable to look at his face.

I had made my choice, and I began streaking down the halls to find him. That blonde haired boy.


	13. From Beauty to Beast

_**A/N: Sorry about the jerk-Malfoy, but most of this is scripted from the book with my own character's point of view, and as it turns out, Draco Malfoy is supposed to be the bad guy in these books... sorry!**_

I darted down the second floor corridor, screaming Draco's name. I was running short of breath, and the stairs were not working in my favour, but I kept going until I saw it. The flare of a black robe, going so quickly it had to be him. I followed him down the stairs into the dungeon, and arrived just in time to see the common room wall begin to close.

I dove into the crack between it, tearing my robes free from the now completely closed space. I whipped my head around wildly, but Draco was nowhere to be found. Then, I heard someone clambering down the stairs to the boy's dorms. I bolted towards it, ignoring the sign warning me about the punishment I might receive if I kept going. Somewhere at near the bottom of the stairs, I saw Draco again, briefly, as he slammed the door to his dorm.

"Draco!" I shouted, thumping on the door. I heard nothing in return, but the blood was pumping in my ears and I was panting so loudly it wouldn't be any wonder if he _had _said anything. I leaned against the door and regained my breath, then, slowly knocking, I tried again.

"Draco, open up."

Just as I was pulling my wand out, about to try an unlocking charm, I heard the _click _of a door being unlocked, and the door swung open. On a bed in the far corner, Draco sat. His eyes were red, but his face wasn't flushed. Timidly, I stepped inside, inspecting the room. It looked just like mine, but it smelt more of cologne, and instead of Weird Sisters posters on the wall, there were posters for various Quidditch teams. I made my way across to Malfoy's bed cautiously, suddenly uncomfortable. He patted the space next to him, returning to his default flirt option. I rolled my eyes and sat. Seriously, I the put a hand on his arm.

"Draco, what was that?" I asked, worried.

"It's you." He repeated. I nodded, urging him to go on. "You see, the Malfoys have been certain for centuries that they were descendants of some lost line of Slytherin. Each one has been sorted into Slytherin, and each child set a quest. To find the Chamber and claim the family's rightful title. Each year, as the search grew more futile, and the pressure grew harder to bear. My grandfather searched, my father searched..."

"And you didn't find it either?" I guessed, trying to piece together the story he was giving me.

"On the contrary, I never got the chance. My _father _never thought I was good enough. So he sent the Weasley girl to go find it. I searched desperately trying to prove to my father that I was _worth _something..." I gave his shoulder a squeeze, Malfoy had serious Daddy issues. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then continued.

"But I could never have done it. I never will. I can't prove to him that I'm of any value at all! It's all because of my damned father!" He shouted the last few words, punching a pillow.

"Draco, I-"

"Don't say anything. I'm glad it's you." He turned to look at me with those penetrating eyes. I stared back into them, time holding its breath, suspended for a long moment. Waiting.

Slowly, hesitantly, Draco reached for my hand. I let him take it. With his other hand, he began to brush the hair out of my face. My heart was doing flips as he leant in, and I allowed myself to do the same. We inched nearer one another until finally, I felt the warm pressure of his lips on mine. He began to kiss me, and I complied, melting into him. After a time, he pulled away from me a little, and I could feel his lips pulled back into a smile. Our foreheads remained touching as he began to speak.

"I've been waiting forever to do that." he said. I nodded in agreement.

I don't know how much longer we sat like that, in the warmth of each other's company. But at some point, the dinner bell chimed, and at some point, we decided not to say anything and at some point, I crawled into bed and dreamt of that kiss.

Things were therefore sufficiently awkward when the new week began and I sat down at breakfast in between none other than the men on the moment, Blaise and Draco. We ate in silence, and none of us made eye contact. Under the table, I could feel Blaise shifting away from me, and Draco's hand fell by my side. I dropped my hand too, taking his. It felt right there. At home.

We spent the morning painfully listening to a lecture by Professor Binns. I gave up listening a short while in, my eyes darting around the room to rest on a snow white owl that was perched on the ledge. I recognized her. Hedwig. She was Harry Potter's owl, but what was she doing here? Mine wasn't the only attention Hedwig drew, most of the people around me were also staring at her until finally, Harry stood and asked Professor Binns if he could get her seen to. Her wing was pretty badly injured. Mr Binns seemed so surprised to even see students in the classroom that he let Harry go.

Draco and I walked through the corridors when Professor Snape's head protruded out from the door to his office, handing Draco an official-looking piece of parchment. He smiled as he read it.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Umbridge gave the slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it's pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?" Why was he speaking so loudly and obnoxiously? I looked over to see Harry Potter, Ron Weasely and Hermione Granger staring at Draco angrily. I elbowed him hard, but it seemed to just egg him on. "I mean, if it's a question of influence in the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance... from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasely for years... and as for Potter... my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

I stood in shock at what Malfoy had just said, especially the last part which hit me with a pang. In a flash of robes and red and yellow ties, Neville Longbottom began charging towards Draco. Crabbe and Goyle stepped defensively in front of him, flexing their flabby arms. I winced as Neville neared shouting ugly words at Draco and something about St Mungo's, until I saw Harry and Ron pulling him back to safety. I knew I had recognized the name 'Longbottom', Neville's parents had a room on the fourth floor of St Mungo's, right next to Betty's. On some of my visits, I heard them shouting deliriously through the thin walls.

I dragged Malfoy away from the cheering Slytherins as Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor for Ron, Harry and Neville's outburst.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. Draco, however, seemed to be glowing with pride.

"Good, wasn't it?" he said, his arms folded, his eyebrow cocked.

"It was bloody horrible!" I hissed, punching him in the stomach. For all the good it did, he turned out to have a very toned stomach compared to my weak hand. I drew it back as I heard a sickening _crunch_, all the bones in my fist aching.

"Lighten up, Angie, it was all in good fun!"

"Fun? FUN? You are such a git, you know that? Neville's parents are in St bloody Mungo's. They've gone mad the two of them, it's heart-breaking. And how could you pick on Ron Weasely, really? A family which can barely take care of itself as it is despite the Arthur Weasely development, and you have to make things worse?" Draco had turned white.

"I-in St Mungo's? Really?" He began to shake his head "Aunty Bella, she's always saying..." He looked back to where Neville had slumped off, undeniably crying. "Aunty Bella you didn't..." he didn't seem to be saying it to anybody in particular, but his face had taken on a grave solemnity. "I-I have to process this." He said, as he turned and walked away. Annoyingly, I didn't feel angry enough to say something about how much I didn't want to be with him anyway. He had a way of doing that. It didn't matter. I looked at the clock. In five hours, I would be going to the first DA meeting.


	14. Quidditch

Ginny Weasely was the one to tell us the location of the first DA meeting. She came bounding up to me and Cho Chang when we were walking through one of the corridors.

"DA meeting... Room of Requirement... Opposite dancing trolls... Walk three times..." she panted, and then ran off to catch Neville a little way in front of us.

At seven o'clock, Cho, Luna and Marietta and me made our way to the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. As one stumbled over another causing a domino effect with the sounds of ripping and a lot of sheer fabric exploding out of the mess, we paced our way in front of the opposite wall three times. _Dark Arts, Dumbledore's Army, we need to learn how to fight..._ I thought, and as I turned back for the fourth time, a large oak door appeared in front of us, with a shining brass handle. We had barely knocked when it swung open, and we saw before us the rest of DA waiting for us.

The room was large and spacious, lined with shelves full of books and odd gadgets like Sneakoscopes and a Foe Glass. On the floor, several large cushions were spread out. We got straight down to business, appointing Harry our leader, and then begun a disarming charm.

"_Expelliarmus!_" I shouted, and Marietta's wand went reeling out of her hand, landing some distance away. "_Accio_," I quickly said, retrieving it and handing it back to her, when she proceeded to disarm me and then grant me the same courtesy, handing me back my battered wand.

"I DID IT!" We heard, bellowed from across the room as Neville Longbottom successfully knocked Harry's wand out of his hand. A few of us turned around momentarily to give him a small round of applause. It was all part of the camaraderie which came with the club.

Zacharias Smith, who had previously been jeering about how uselessly simple this charm was, seemed to be having some trouble next to me. Every time he raised his hand, his wand would go flying out of it, but his duelling partner hadn't even opened his mouth. Harry walked up, seeming confused, and I followed his gaze to see Fred and George, who were evidently shooting charms at Zach and not each other. I chuckled.

The general madness continued for a time, Harry occasionally stopping the group to give a few words of encouragement. Cho saw Harry spot Marietta across the room and quickly asked me to swap partners with her. Me and Luna simply watched as he and Cho began to flirt, giggling. Marietta came storming up to us, and we all began to watch. Harry turned around to see us, and walked over. Marietta fled.

"Well done, Luna, you're really good at this," he said, not looking at Luna at all, but instead suspiciously eyeing me. "Angeline, can I speak with you for a moment?" he finally asked. I looked at Luna, but she seemed oblivious, humming to herself. I shrugged, and he led me over to the shelf with the Sneakoscopes.

"Angeline, here's the thing. I saw you with Malfoy before, and that makes me somewhat distrustful of you. Everybody here needs this, we need to know that we're doing something to rebel. I can't have anybody taking that away."

"Of course not, Harry. I need this too." I stroked my left hand. He seemed to understand. Then, I grabbed a Sneakoscope, pushing it into Harry's hands. It remained dormant. "See? I can be trusted." He nodded. He knew that if anyone had something to lose it was me. A Slytherin in such an organization as this would practically be tortured if anybody found out. Especially Malfoy.

"Be careful around Malfoy, Okay?" He asked, seeming sincere. "I've known the guy a lot longer than you have. He's a bad guy." I shook my head.

"He's just insecure. You should have seen him after the St Mungo's quip. He felt so bad about Neville..."

"How does he know about Neville?"

"His Aunt I think. Aunty Bella, he called her?"

"That's right. Bellatrix Lestrange, she's a death eater. His whole family are Death Eaters. They're dangerous if you don't know how to handle them."

"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" I asked, teasingly. "To learn?"

I left then, and after another half an hour, the session was over and we all returned to our dorms. I felt that same feeling of empowerment I felt when I first did magic buzzing in my veins again, like electricity.

The electricity returned on Saturday, as it did for the rest of the school, as Slytherin prepared for its first Quidditch match of the season. Against Gryffindor.

Draco sat down next to me for breakfast, hungrily piling his plate high with food.

"Energy," he grunted through mouthfuls, "For the match." I nodded.

Stella and I both threw on our thickest robes, hats and Slytherin scarves straight after breakfast and made our way outside. It was freezing and overcast, but not raining at least. We joined a long line of Slytherins desperate to take their seats around the pitch and let the games begin. I was almost to the stairs of the bleachers when something grabbed me and tugged me away. It was Draco.

"What are you _doing_?" I asked, "You're supposed to be playing in five minutes!"

He didn't answer, he simply took my head in his hands and pulled it to him, kissing me. I kissed him back in return, albeit surprised, and then he let me go.

"Energy," he said with a wink, giving me a mock salute and then bounding back off to join his team. I stood, stunned, fingertips at my lips, when Stella retrieved me, pulling me back towards the stands.

The actual match was like nothing I had ever experienced. Lee Jordan screamed through a microphone which pounded through the speakers, adding in more information than was ever necessary, while the players zoomed around, hardly visible because of their speed.

"...it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is..."

I saw Ron Weasely letting in a few goals, one after the other, the Slytherins around me chanting...

_Weasely is our King_

_Weasely is our King_

_He always lets the Quaffle in_

_Weasely is our King_

I cheered along, refusing to sing, but internally whooping for Ron. A that moment, I saw Draco and Harry dive, neck in neck, probably having spotted the Snitch. I began to scream wildly, joined quickly by everyone else in the stands as all attention turned to the two Seekers, streaking over the goalposts and around, practically in the stalls. We called as they passed over them, screaming their names, somewhere in the distance an unnaturally realistic roaring sound coming from Luna Lovegood's hat as Harry was suddenly and violently thrown sideways by a bludger and the whistle blew. Gryffindor had won! I put on a sour face and booed, but my stomach was doing flips of excitement. I couldn't wait for DA so I could congratulate them all.

As I watched, Draco stomped towards Harry, screaming ugly things at him, words I couldn't hear and wasn't sure I wanted to. Before I knew it, Harry had lunged at Draco, tossing him to the ground. After some deliberation and a minor spat between Umbridge and McGonagall- which I would have given anything to have heard- Harry, Ron and George were banned from playing. Suddenly, reminding them of the match didn't seem like such a good idea.

After everybody had gone off to Hogsmeade and the coast was clear, I went in to the common room. It was empty, but I knew Draco hadn't left yet. Looking around again, just to make sure, I crept over to the staircase and made my way to his dorm.

I found him violently folding his Quidditch robes and shoving them in the drawer, throwing, angrily slamming it shut.

"Stupid Potter," he mumbled under his breath. He evidently hadn't heard me come in.

"Draco, are you alright?" I asked, creeping up to him and placing a comforting hand on his arm. He drew in a deep breath.

"I'm fine. It's just Potter. He _always _has to show me up, never lets anyone _else _have the victory now does he? Spoilt little Potter would never let that happen."

"What does it matter if Harry does well?"

"It matters that none of the rest of us ever do! Some of us want to make something of ourselves, want to be somebody more than what people expect of them." I assumed by people he meant his father. I nodded, understanding.

"I get it. You don't want to just live up to the boundaries other people set for you, you want to be more than that, your own person."

"Exactly!" He exclaimed, "You know Angie I really l-" he paused suddenly embarrassed. I frowned at him, wanting to hear what he had to say. He shook his head and pecked me on the cheek.

"You're great." was all he said. I wondered what he wanted to say originally? Was it a mirror image of the way my heart flipped every time he caught my eye? Was it the way my chest constricted every time he gave me that penetrating look he was giving me now? There was no way to know, so I simply smiled, leaned in, and kissed him again.

"I know.


	15. Oh, You Thought DRACO Was The Beast

While my relationship with Draco hid behind closed doors, kissing in random places and never really doing anything but, my relationship with Blaise began to heal. After my betrayal, we only ever glanced at each other, but recently he had been making more attempts to approach me, to talk to me, and slowly began to allow me back into his heart. I was relieved to have him back.

"So, what are you gonna do about your being the heir of Slytherin and all?" he asked as we walked aimlessly down the corridors on the dreary Sunday after the match, most of the rest of the school either at Hogsmeade or at home with their families.

"I don't really think I _can _do anything. How do I tell my mum that she wasn't born to the man she's been grieving for her whole life?"

"But how awesome would it be to have everybody just shut up about you, to stop calling you names,"

"What, like Princess?"

"You kind of _are _a princess though,"

"An heiress,"

"Yes, but that doesn't sound the same." I nudged him and he laughed. "I'm calling you princess anyway." he declared.

"But I'm still 'princess' because of a man who practically wanted to kill all my friends." I said, exasperated. It had been playing on my mind since I opened the Chamber of Secrets. "I thought that finding out I was the heir would make me feel better about being Slytherin and still practically a muggle, but now it just seems like whatever I do, I'm either betraying my human side or my muggle side."

That was why I liked being with Blaise. With him, I could be both muggle-like and a Slytherin. Up until that point, he was my main comfort. But then everything changed. As Blaise opened his mouth to rebuttal, and owl swooped down and dropped a letter in his hands. It then looked at him for a moment, something like pity in its wise face, before it flew off again.

Blaise fingered the corners of the letter.

"Looks official," he remarked, turning it over to see that there was a Ministry seal on the back. He opened it up to reveal several documents, one of paper from the Ministry of Magic, one handwritten letter from what I thought was his mother judging from the handwriting, and one which bore the Metropolitan Police symbol in the corner. His eyes widened as he scanned the letter from his mother, and his face paled. He staggered backwards until he hit a wall, and then slid down it, knees to his chest, holding the crumpled piece of parchment up to his eyes, scrutinizing it, as if he couldn't believe what he was reading. Or maybe because he couldn't see through the tears that had begun to flow.

I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his level.

"Is everything Ok?"

"My uncle, he's dead." he said, and though his eyes glimmered with tears, his voice was emotionless. It was unsettling.

I remembered Blaise talking about his uncle. The one who had taught him his tolerance for muggles. He spoke of him often and fondly. In fact, he was supposed to be staying with him over Christmas. I could only imagine what he was going through now.

"W-What happened?" I asked, eyeing the Met Police logo.

"Bloody muggles happened," he said, coldly. "They jumped him, broke his wand. He only had a few knuts on him..."

"Blaise," I interrupted, putting a hand on his arm. He didn't have to carry on. He shook my hand off however.

"No! They shot him, with one of those _guns_," He began to raise his voice. "the bloody _animals_!"

"Blaise, please don't..."

"Don't tell me what to do! We wizards, we have _one _killing curse. Only _one _way to do it. Those muggles, they have so many! Knifes and bombs and those guns! They live to kill, they all do it. They have so little respect for each other, for life. They're goddam gits, the lot of them! And _you..._" he spun towards me with malice in his eyes, "You are just like them!"

He seized my left hand and waved it in front of my face.

"Read those words Angeline! _I must not act like a muggle_, too right! You are such a filthy muggle," he paused, probably seeing the hurt in my face. He dropped my arm, and I clutched it back into myself, it burned red and sore.

"Princess, I-"

"_Don't _call me that," I spat at him, turning on my heel and leaving him to collapse back onto the floor and cry. I heard the sound of paper shuffling as he crumpled the letters in anger and threw them into nowhere in particular.

When Blaise was well and truly out of the way, I began to run and run towards the dungeons, streaking through the common room and hurtling my way down the stairs. Somewhere behind me I heard someone say my name. I ignored it, I just kept running until I leapt into my bed, curled up and began to sob. I sobbed for what Blaise had done to me, how much it stung, but mainly I sobbed out of pity, pity for the poor soul who could turn his back on all he once believed. And pity for the friend I had lost.

At some point, a warm body entered and crawled into bed with me, holding me as I cried until finally I drifted off into a hot and restless sleep, bullets firing in my mind.


	16. A Day in the Life of a Muggle

_**A/N: All right, all right, product placement. Shoot me. **_

I awoke groggily and checked my watch. It was 5.43, I had been asleep for a few hours. I tried to turn back and hit something warm and hard. Suddenly, all the memories hit me like a crushing wave. Blaise, the look of evil in his eyes, the final words I would ever allow him to say to me...

But who was in my bed? I had never turned around to check, I had just been grateful for the comfort. I tried to feel the shallow movements pressed against my back. Muscles, a strong chest, an arm draped lazily in the crook above my hip, the other under my neck. I looked over at it in front of me, resting on the pillow. It was pale, a skin tone that could belong to only one boy.

I turned to my other side and snuggled into Malfoy's chest. It seemed to rouse him from his nap. His eyelids flickered open to look at me and he smiled, worming out the arm from under my neck so as to stroke my hair. He said nothing, just simply gazed at me.

"You are beautiful," he said. It didn't even seem like a compliment, simply stating fact. I smiled shyly under his watch. He caressed the patches under my eyes where the tears had turned my skin sticky. "What happened?" he asked.

"Blaise,"

"Yes, my Father told me about his uncle. He works in the Ministry with a bunch of other people who find as many reasons as they can to scorn the muggles. I imagine I heard the news around the time Blaise did."

"He's angry," I said, "with the muggles."

"Well I imagine he would be. They did kill his uncle after all..."

"_All _the muggles, not just those ones." I looked down.

"I don't see that it makes any..." Draco trailed off, looking suddenly confused. "This really does trouble you, doesn't it, this whole muggle thing?"

"Well, yes, it does. Muggles aren't all that different to us. We are all humans after all, but there's still this kind of unwritten hierarchy, which is ridiculous considering that most muggles don't even know magic exists! I just find it hard to hear everybody being so mean about them, especially when I practically am one,"

Draco looked at me hard, inspecting me.

"I-I guess you're right..." he said slowly. This was clearly a new point of view for him.

"Look, Draco, these attitudes have been bred into you, I don't expect you to have to understand,"

"But I want to understand," said Draco unexpectedly. I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"_Really?_"

"Yeah, I want to know what it is you're talking about."

I frowned for a moment. I wanted to explain to Draco, explain to him all the little things that made muggles so awesome, but I didn't have to words.

"Well then, how about this?" I proposed, "Next weekend, you and I will go into London and act like muggles for a whole day. I'll show you what it's like."

"L-Like a date?" he asked, bashfully. My heart fluttered.

"I-If you want it to be,"

He leaned forward and kissed me.

"It's a date."

The week dragged by slowly and painfully. I was constantly quizzed on Blaise after he left early to be with his family. In all honesty, he was the last person I wanted to talk about. My studies were brutal too, the fast approaching Christmas holidays apparently bringing with them extra inches for each essay along with many other pieces of homework. I did them all eagerly every night, making sure my weekend would be free. Draco and I chatted idly in public, for some reason reluctant to let other people know of our... relationship. I still didn't know how to define it.

Draco met me at the gates of Hogwarts on Saturday morning, clutching our Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-Ones.

"Just because we're going to act like muggles, doesn't mean we have to travel like them," he said, winking. I whipped out my two recently purchased oyster cards from my pocket.

"How do you think we're going to get around town then?" I asked, slapping one into his hand. He groaned.

"I've heard things about buses..." he began. I ignored him, grabbing my broom and taking to the sky. He was immediately on my tail as we made our way to through the misty skies to London.

We arrived swiftly enough into the alley outside the Leaky Cauldron, asking the bartender to keep them there until we returned. He grunted in reply.

We exited the Leaky Cauldron onto a busy London street. It was good to be back. I took Draco's hand. We weren't in school anyway, we could do as we pleased without running the risk of anybody seeing us. We walked idly along the street for a while, shoving our way through the weekend-goers until I spotted the world famous 'Underground' symbol.

"There!" I pointed, dragging him down. I showed him how to use his oyster card to get through, and with little difficulty we soon mounted the tube.

Draco sat with his hands between his knees, looking nervously up and down the aisle as if expecting something.

"What is it?" I finally asked.

"Isn't somebody going to come to check our tickets?" he hissed, "We haven't bought any!" I nearly laughed out loud. Draco Malfoy, famous bad-boy, had never been on the tube.

"Draco, there are no ticket collectors on the tube!" He looked at me quizzically.

"What do you mean? But surely if you don't have to buy a ticket it gets crowded!"

"It gets crowded alright," I nodded, chuckling.

We emerged from the tube into Piccadilly Circus, and next to me Draco gasped. I turned to see him staring at the screens in awe.

"I didn't know muggles could make pictures move," he said.

"Not with magic, but they've learnt many substitutes," I said, dragging him along. He turned his gaze from the screens to the cars.

"What are those?" he asked, hurrying across the street quickly and people halted by the zebra crossing.

"Cars, Draco, muggles can't just Apparate anywhere they want!" He continued to gaze at them as I walked along, looking at the names of each building until I found a cinema. If he liked the screens that lit up Piccadilly Circus, he would love a movie.

I bought two tickets for the next showing of the latest comedy, and then bought a large bucket of popcorn and two cokes.

"What is that?" he asked, eyeing the popcorn.

"Popcorn," I replied. Surely he'd tried popcorn?

"Like- _corn _corn?"

"Yep, try some" I said, popping a piece in my mouth. He too took a tentative mouthful and his eyes lit up.

"This is brilliant!" he exclaimed, taking another piece. "What's this?" he asked as I handed him the coke.

"It's a drink, but be careful, don't drink it too quickly on your first-" It was too late, Draco took a long drag on the straw, and then coughed it back up violently.

"What _is _that?" he spluttered.

"Coca-cola" I replied, lazily sipping on mine. "it's better in small sips."

We finally entered the theatre and sat down, when the movie commenced. As the music began, I didn't watch the screen, I watched Draco. His eyes lit up as he watched the darting images, a wide smile spread across his face. It made me want to kiss him.

As clueless as Draco was, however, he somehow seemed to know proper movie etiquette. Some way through the movie, he stretched his arm, resting it over my shoulders. In response, I snuggled into him. I don't quite remember at what point in the movie kissing became more important than the screen. Draco sure was a fast learner.

"That was brilliant!" Draco exclaimed as we walked away from the cinema. I spotted an Apple store.

"You ain't seen nothing yet!" I said, pulling him towards it.

We pushed our way through the crowds until I found a purple iPod nano and gave Draco a headphone, finding a song. As it began to pump into our ears Draco inspected the small device. He looked at it up and down, taking in and out the headphone, marveling at the fact no-one could hear what he was hearing.

For a very late lunch, we ended up sitting in Regent's Park, huddled into each other eating sandwiches.

"The food's the same," I said, taking a bite into mine.

"At least," he replied through a mouthful.

We continued in silence, until we finally began to make our way back to the Leaky Cauldron, quite exhausted.

"What did you think?" I asked him.

"It was... amazing. Muggles, they can do anything. Cars and iPods and movies, it's all just like magic." I nodded. He understood.

The flight back to Hogwarts was quick and enjoyable, darting in and out of the clouds with Draco, each daring the other to go faster. When finally we arrived, it was six in the evening and already dark. We walked together to the broom cupboard, no longer hand in hand. When we reached it, Draco took me unexpectedly and pinned me against a wall, pressing his lips against mine. For some reason, I pulled away.

"Draco, what are we?" I asked. Finally.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we keep sneaking around and kissing here and there, but what- you know- _are _we?"

"I thought... you were my girlfriend." he said, confused. My heart leapt.

"Oh, good." I said, awkwardly.

"At least, I hoped you would be. You're amazing Angie. I l... I really like you."

I nodded. "You too,"

We kissed again.


	17. Meet the Parents

After many painful weeks of extra homework, Christmas was finally just around the corner. With only one week left, everything began to grow grim.

"What's wrong, Angie?" Draco asked me as I failed to laugh at one of his jokes.

"Christmas," I said cryptically.

"What could possibly be wrong with Christmas?" he asked.

"The whole family thing, you know, mine being of Slytherin descent and all that?"

"Well, you can spend it with me... you know, if you want."

"Really?" I asked, my mind already zooming through the letters I would have to write to my parents, asking if it would be Ok to spend Christmas away this year, already changing the clothes I intended to pack.

"Of course, if you don't mind Christmas a la Malfoy," he said. "I don't know how much you'd like my parents..." I shook my head.

"Nonsense, they raised you, didn't they? I'll try to be civil for the sake of that. But, are sure it wouldn't put you out?" Please say no, please say no.

"No, of course not! I need the moral support." I smiled.

"Thanks."

Finally I could breathe again. I wrote to my parents, asking them for permission to stay with Draco for Christmas. The reply was less than what I wanted. I was allowed to stay with him, but only on the condition that they met him first. The first night of the Christmas holidays, my mother would be making us dinner. That was kind of the opposite of what I wanted, to see my parents even sooner.

We arrived outside my apartment in London on a freezing Friday evening, having just come from the train station. My mother rushed us in, giving both me and Draco a hug. My father lingered behind her, hugging me and eyeing Draco, accepting his respectful handshake.

"Good to meet you, boy," he said.

We walked in and went directly to the dinner table, sitting down with growling stomachs. Chocolate frogs were not a good substitute for lunch, I found.

My mother walked out proudly and sat, she then pulled out her wand and, with a flourish, dinner appeared at the table. I suppressed a gasp. It was still hard to believe that my family were wizards.

I tucked in immediately, spooning myself practically everything on the table while my mother politely offered to serve Draco. He acted very respectfully, accepting a taste of everything and thanking her profusely. I was impressed by him charms. This was not the same boy who called me squib girl and teased my every day.

"So, Draco, how has our Angie been doing in school?" asked my mother. She sounded just as proud as she did in her lessons.

"She's getting on brilliantly, Mrs Wint, got me out of a few fixes I can tell you," he winked at her and she giggled. I was impressed.

"Does that mean you aren't studious then, boy? Do you rely on my daughter for your work?" asked my father disapprovingly. I had never seen this side of him before. Then again, I had never brought a boy home before.

"Da-ad!" I whined.

"No, Angie, it's fine. The man's quick, I admire that. However, sir, no. I'm doing a lot of work towards my OWLs at the end of the year. Angie is just very capable in helping me, you have raised a clever girl."

"Smooth," I muttered. My father just glowered into his plate.

"Well, well, Howard," my mother said, "Let's not grill the boy, shall we? More mashed potatoes Draco?"

"No, thank you Mrs Wint, but I am quite full and tired. Would it be Ok if we retired for the night?"

My parents looked uncomfortably from one to the other.

"But... where would you stay?"

"At Malfoy Manor," I interjected, seeing that they weren't happy with the idea of me and Draco sharing my bedroom.

"We'll have separate rooms on opposite sides of the house, I promise," said Draco, clasping my mother's hand. "I'll take care of your daughter, sir," he said to my father, and then we stood and bid them goodbye.

"Well done," I said as the elevator doors shut.

"Thank you," Draco smiled cheekily.

"Thank _you,_ for not making me stay there tonight."

"It wasn't all that painful," he said reproachingly.

"You clearly didn't see my dad glaring at you."

"It was fun watching him squirm,"

"Hey!" I said, pushing him out of the elevator doors as he chuckled, stumbling forward into the night. We retrieved out brooms and- with a quick anti-muggle defense spell- we were off.


	18. Malfoy Manor

Malfoy Manor was just as commanding and intimidating as the family that resided there. After walking up what was practically a half-mile drive, we reached a pair of wrought iron gates. Draco halted, took my hand and placed it on his right shoulder.

"Don't let go until we're through," he said to me, and then he did some kind of salute and then walked straight towards the gate at a slow and relaxed pace. I closed my eyes as we neared it. My mind's eyes saw Draco, directly in front of me, crashing slap bang into the hard, unforgiving metal, but still he continued to walk. I closed my eyes as Draco's pace sped up slightly, nervous. The gates were practically upon us now, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold impact of metal on my face. We closed what I assumed was the gap between ourselves and the gate and...

Kept on walking. And walking. Draco prised my hand from his shoulder and brought me up to his level.

"You can open your eyes now," he chuckled into my ear. I opened my eyes. The gate was no longer in front of us. I turned around and saw the gate behind me. If it was possible for the average human being to kick themselves up their own behinds, I would have done that. _I have _been _to platform 9 and 3/4. I have _walked _through walls myself_.

My mind was quickly distracted from my momentary lack of a prefrontal cortex when I looked around me. All around us spread an ascending hedge on top of which, with a great spectacle of all that was pretentious, were five or six albino peacocks.

"What are those?" I asked, an eyebrow cocked.

"My... father..."

"He likes peacocks?" I asked, skeptically.

"No, he's a pompous git," I laughed out loud, but was cut off mid-chortle as suddenly a black shape rose from the very ground in front of us. It continued to grow the closer we got, until it was simply a mass that swallowed up the sky.

"Home sweet home," said Draco ironically.

The inside was more impressive than the outside. The door swung in magically as we approached, revealing a cold marble room with an exquisite rug on the floor. From the ceiling hung a chandelier, dripping with ice-like crystals. A large splendid staircase swung down from a balcony. Extra corridors spidered from the main hall into lit rooms.

"Wow," I said unintentionally. It echoed loudly across the spacious hall, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. That made a noise too.

"Don't worry, nobody's home," he said, leading me in. Our luggage and broomsticks followed behind, suspended slightly in the air, although I had not seen Draco perform a levitation charm. It must have just been one of those services that the house offered, like opening doors and changing the molecular density of gates.

"Oh," I said, suddenly slightly nervous. I knew I shouldn't be, that Draco was trustworthy, but I was still aware of the fact that he was very much a teenage boy.

"I didn't lie about the bedrooms though, yours it quite a trek from mine,"

"Uh, alright then. I guess that's Ok." Something nagged at the back of my mind, telling me that this was deliberately rebellious and my parents won't be happy. It only gave me a greater sense of excitement. "Where are your parents then?"

"Romania, I think. One of the Weasely's works over there with dragons. My father's been thinking about getting to guard some of our more... valuable items. Some of the old farts in the Ministry don't appreciate impressive displays of magic. They come back Christmas Eve."

Wow. Albino peacocks _and _a dragon. My first meeting with Lucius Malfoy would be interesting.

"Your room's right here," said Draco, and a door swung open to invite us in. I walked in entranced. Luxurious deep green curtains framed the window on the far side of the room. A plush black carpet spread over the ground. In the corner, a hard wood armoire was open and waiting to be filled and, dominating the room, sat a large- turned down- four poster bed, embellished with an array of cushions of different shades of green. I spied a door leading to an en suite bathroom as well.

"This is amazing," I breathed, walking in hypnotically, my bags coming to rest on the bed. Draco walked in with me, pecked me on the cheek, and then bade me goodnight. As my suitcase was unpacked by the house, I changed into PJs and climbed into bed, blowing out the lamp and dreaming of Draco.

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of pancakes. The house was more beautiful in the daytime, golden light bathing the large marble hall. I was halfway down the stairs towards the smell when I realised I was still in my skimpy nightgown. I swore, running back up before Draco saw me.

"Angie?"

Dammit.

"Yeah, uh, hi," I called back, halfway up the stairs. Draco appeared from one of the subsidiary corridors and whistled.

"Shut up," I said, pulling down the nightie further over my legs. It wasn't working.

"I've got breakfast if you want it he said," still smiling like a fool.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go... change..." It was only then when I noticed what Draco was wearing or, not wearing. He was topless, his perfect abs holding my attention. I dropped my gaze quickly, causing Draco laugh out loud when he realised how uncomfortable I was with the whole situation.

"You change then," he said when he had settled. "Breakfast will be ready when you're done."

The next few days before Christmas Eve were bliss. Draco and I spent our time exploring the house and its luxurious gardens, and mostly playing one-on-one Quidditch matches. During the nights, I would get my DVD player and we would watch countless films, wrapped up together on one of the many guest beds.

However, Christmas Eve was soon upon us, and the house had erected a tree in tribute. Just as I was exiting my room after getting ready, the door swung open with a bang and in entered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, emerging from the night. Both had long, blonde, wind whipped hair and cold features. It was hard to try and imagine a more perfect match.

"M-Mr and M-Mrs M-Malfoy," I stuttered.

"Yes," said Lucius, "and who, may I ask, are you?"


	19. Merry Christmas, My Love

"Mother! Father!" Draco exclaimed, coming quickly to my rescue as he appeared beside me. As if to justify my appearance in their house, he took my hand. I glowed.

"Hmm," was all I heard. Draco led me down the stairs anyway, despite the fact I was clearly no longer welcome here.

"Mother, Father, this is Angeline Wint. She's in my house at school."

"That's all is it?" I heard Lucius Malfoy say under his breath as he took my hand. I almost offered it to Narcissa as well, but before I had the chance, she pulled me in and kissed me lightly on both cheeks.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Draco talks about you fondly," she said. I didn't realise that Draco had even written to his family, let alone about me. This also seemed to come as a surprise to Lucius, who looked puzzled at his wife. She gave a tinkling laugh that rang throughout the hall, and then began to walk into the house. The door closed obediently behind her. I marveled at her grace as the house took her bags, zipping them off into a distant room.

"Merry Christmas," she said as an afterthought, turning back round. I started at the words. The encounter had been so surreal, I had forgotten that it was Christmas Eve.

We were led into the large dining room, a room in which I had never been. Draco and I had always eaten dinner in one of the many bedrooms or living rooms. I liked mostly to eat in the library, a room with sky-high black wooden shelves and- my favorite feature- a library ladder.

The dining room, however, was beyond comparison. It had a low ceiling, and from it hung three marvelous chandeliers, each trimmed with gold. They scattered rainbows onto the large, hard wood dining table. We took our places in the middle of the dining table, which could probably sit eighteen comfortably. Me and Draco sat on the high-backed chairs on one side, Lucius and Narcissa in the other.

As we sat, glasses appeared on the table. I saw red wine in Lucius' glass, white in Narcissa's, whilst me and Draco were given Coca-Cola. I almost laughed when I saw it. Draco looked over at me and smiled. _Nothing can come of nothing,_ I reminded myself, _he must have prepared this himself._

"So," drawled Lucius Malfoy, "You brought a friend home." he chuckled. "You'll have to excuse me Angeline, but Draco doesn't have many friends."

"Oh, Lucius don't be harsh, Draco has plenty of friends."

"Those two imbecile sons of Crabbe and Goyle do not count." Lucius said, punctuating the last two words with strong 't's.

"Well, I'm sure Angeline is nothing like that, she's probably far more competent in magic than those two." she said disdainfully.

"Well, actually, I only started doing magic this- Ow!" Draco had elbowed me hard in the ribs under the table, but apparently it was too late.

"So _you're _the squib-girl," he said with sarcastic civility. "Well, well, Draco. We haven't even brought home a _proper _witch? I would expect nothing more from you I supposed." He sipped his wine as if oblivious to the slicing comment he had just made. He looked like a vampire, such a pale man drinking from a glass of blood red.

"Angeline is _certainly _a proper witch. She's twice the witch than half the people in our year!"

"Oh? Like you Draco? Why of course, now everything makes sense! Draco, born and raised wizard falls head over heels in love with the squib-girl, but get this," he leant in, as if it were a secret, "They're just as good as each other, which, is no good at all." He leant back with a smile of contempt on his face. It made me want to...

"Wipe that arrogant smile off your face you pompous prig," I started, standing. "How dare you say such things about me? You don't even know me! And as for your son, who you do know, how could you then have the audacity to say those things about him?" I began to shout, and then looked over and saw Draco, sitting with his hands in his lap, staring at the table. I couldn't believe that he wasn't standing up for himself. I stamped hard on his foot.

"Ouch, what the hell was that?" he asked, rocking back and forth in a vain attempt to numb the pain.

"Don't _you _have anything to add?" I asked, meaningfully, gesturing to his parents, who were still staring at me in utter shock.

"I-uh- no?"

"Don't bother trying to make him speak, it's a lost cause," said Lucius. Suddenly, Draco snapped out of his shell and awoke to the conversation taking place.

"I'm only lost to you, Father." he said.

"Whatever do you mean, Draco?" asked Lucius, infuriatingly calm.

"I _mean _that maybe I'm not so awful as maybe you would like me to believe. Some people," he took my hand, "want me to better myself. But no, not you. You are terrified that I'll out-rank you, become better than you. How would you be able to live with yourself then? Your own son, more of a man than you are..."

"Draco, that's enough!" exclaimed Narcissa, shocked.

"No, mother, it doesn't even begin to cover the past fifteen years of my existence..."

"Oh, Cissy, if the boy wants to throw a hissy fit, allow him to."

"It is not a hissy fit, _Father_, it's the long awaited truth." He spat the last word right at his father, and then took my hand roughly and stormed out of the room. He dragged me out to the hall where the house, ever faithful, already had our brooms and luggage waiting. The door duteously swung open to let us out, and the gate had the same consistency as when we entered, and all the time we laughed.

"That... was... amazing," panted Draco. "I've never stood up to that man before!"

"I... I noticed," I gasped back. Then, Draco stopped laughing instantaneous, and he looked into my eyes. It was that penetrating gaze I had seen that day outside Umbridge's office, but without the pity. Now it said something stronger, something that stopped my laughter as well.

Slowly, unsure, Draco raised my hand and took it to his chest. I felt heat underneath my palm, and could feel the defined muscles that lay below them. Most of all, I could feel his heart, pounding into fingers. Wordlessly, he then drew me in and tenderly kissed me. Then again. Then again. Our kisses grew deeper as he pulled me completely into him, and I melted into his body. Suddenly, the world was holding its breath. Malfoy Manor, Lucius, Narcissa, albino peacocks, they all shrank into the dark corners of my mind as all that was light was consumed in this kiss. We broke apart to draw a breath.

"I love you." Draco whispered.

I paused, and it was as if he had realised what he had done. He withdrew, and glanced up at me hopefully. When I said nothing, he summoned up his courage. I saw it swelling in his chest, making himself even larger.

"I love you, Angeline," he said again, but bolder. My heart leapt from my chest and took to its wings, soaring high above the clouds and leaving me breathless. I knew at once that he was telling the truth. I also knew that I was as well when I said;

"I love you too, Draco." We kissed again, and then mounted our brooms and flew off into the frosted midnight sky


	20. Just Something to Think About

We arrived late at night to the Leaky Cauldron, and in our exhaustion took a room upstairs. Lugging our bags tiredly up, we finally swung the door open, and flung ourselves into two chairs stationed at each end of the dusty bedroom.

I looked around room 11. There was little in here. There were two armchairs, one in which I was residing, a window, a fireplace and... a bed. One bed.

I looked over at Draco. He had begun to unpack our things. I looked back over at the bed. I wasn't comfortable sharing with him, despite his confession of love. I figured that he would probably be chivalrous, give me the bed, but as I sank into the comfy armchair I realised that I would rather stay here, and let him have it. So, slowly, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep, hoping that Draco would just take the bed and spare the awkwardness.

I awoke at some point in the night sweating. My dreams had been haunted by a man with snake-like features, and two slits for nostrils. The man kept flashing between the monster and a boy, both staggering forward, holding me in their arms. They fell to their knees outside an old decrepit building. And then my back began to ache.

It ached now as I eased my self up out of the chair. It was still dark outside. My watch said it was three in the morning. I looked over the the semi-luminescent room, lit by a half moon. My eyes fell on Draco, whose perfect body was slumped on the bed, rising and falling steadily. I gathered a few of my clothes quietly, namely my pajamas and underwear, and sought out the bathroom. After a calming shower, I returned to the room and looked reluctantly back at my armchair. The thing seemed to project the nightmare now, threatening to bring it back upon me. And then I looked longingly at the bed. I was sure Draco wouldn't mind...

I crawled in on the other side of the bed, careful not to rouse him from his slumber. Then, I slipped under the covers and turned to face the other side, so we were back to back. Feeling the warmth radiating from Draco, I began to feel my eyelids droop again...

The morning came slowly to me. At first, I felt the muted light of a sun hidden by clouds hit my eyelids. Soon after, I became aware of legs tangled in mine, and arms wrapped around me. It took me a while to feel the eyes on me too. I blinked awake.

"Merry Christmas," came Draco's croaky voice.

"Merry Christmas," I replied, knowing that while all I had known before was the excitement of Christmas morning because of the presents, the way Draco was holding me was far better than anything I could have ever wished for.

We remained in bed for another few seconds, a stillness hanging in the air. I looked admiringly at the perfection of the blonde boy whose arms I was wrapped up in. Draco's smooth complexion, bone structure and symmetry were very impressive, but nothing could possibly hope to define him better than his beautiful eyes. They gazed at me with the most dazzling emotion I had ever experienced. I thought of my own green-hazel eyes, and how mediocre they must have seemed in comparison. I wondered if I was capable of looking at anyone with that much passion. Despite the amount I felt in my heart, It was unlikely I would ever be able to show it to Draco the way he did me.

"Well, come on then!" he said.

"Come on, what?" I asked, confused.

"Aren't we going to go out? It's snowing outside!"

"It's _what?_" I asked, the childhood excitement of both snow and Christmas on the same day practically overwhelming me.

Draco was already out of bed and pulling on his clothes. I watched him inadvertently as he peeled off his shirt, revealing his prefect muscles.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"Shut up," I replied, grabbing my clothes and diving into the bathroom to ready myself. When I came out, sufficiently wrapped up, Draco grabbed my hand and we streaked out of the door, soon in Diagon Alley.

The sight was amazing. Amidst the snow were vendors selling all kinds of things. Huge singing Christmas tress sat in rows on my left, and chestnuts were being roasted by a miniature dragon to my right.

But Draco pulled my past all of it, all of the children with gifts of money come to buy themselves a Christmas presents, past the town entirely until we were in a completely different place altogether. An empty plot of land, filled with crisp, untouched snow. I gasped.

"What is this pl-" I began, before something hit me violently in the back of the neck. It stung with cold. Well then, if he wanted a snowball fight, I would give him one.

I whipped around, fresh snow crushed and ready in my hands when _splat, _I was hit again with a snowball, this one square in the face. Draco roared with laughter, until he began to choke on snow. That was my handiwork.

In the space of ten minutes a fully fledged battle had come into being. I stumbled blindly through snow, throwing this way and that, getting hit more then my missiles hit my target. We both laughed insanely, like children. Suddenly, Draco was in front of me, a whopper of a snowball in his hand. I backed away, tripping over myself and falling back into the snow. Draco fell on top of me, his masterpiece of a weapon dashed into the ground. We both laughed hysterically again.

The rest of the morning was spent in the snow, and when we bored, we stepped into one of the pubs and ordered two butterbeers. I chugged mine down, grateful for the warmth it lent my body.

"So," I began, "your parents." We hadn't even spoken about last night yet.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about them." He said, shifting away from me uncomfortably.

"No, don't worry about it. It's just, it makes sense now."

"What does?" asked Draco.

"You do. Why you're such a jerk to Harry," I said, hoping that Draco wouldn't pick up the fact I called him by his first name.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're _jealous _of him. He doesn't have parents, so he can't disappoint them. That's what you're so terrified of." I said. Draco said nothing for a small while, and then nodded.

"I- I suppose you could be right," Draco said.

"But Draco, you don't have to worry about your parents," I began.

"But I do," he protested. "You haven't seen my dad when he's disappointed."

"Draco, you might be jealous of Potter, but your dad is jealous of you." I said. Now he looked genuinely confused. "He's terrified that you're going to turn out better than him that he pulls you down, when in actual fact he's proud of you. That's why you pull others down. To be like him, to feel better about yourself, and to gain his approval. But you don't need to. You just need to stand up to him."

"I- I can't" said Draco finally.

"Well, maybe not now, but someday. Just something to think about," I added, and then went back to slurping up the remains of my drink.


	21. That Was Awesome

The Christmas holidays sped by in a dazzling memory of pure bliss. Draco and I spent the last two weeks in the room in the Leaky Cauldron. Every morning, we would eat breakfast wherever we could find it, and then find ourselves somewhere, doing the amazing things that muggles couldn't. He even took me to a Quidditch match. During the nights, we would both do our holiday homework together, comparing notes.

The day before we were scheduled to go back to Hogwarts,I was casually licking an ice cream piled three scoops high, which rather than made me cold, filled my mouth with cinnamon and a warming kick of gingerbread. It was therefore unfortunate when something hit my leg, and it went splattering over the poor victim who had tripped.

"Oh, God, I am so sorry..." I began, when I realised I recognized the recipient of the sundae. "Harry?" I asked, suddenly very aware of Draco behind me. "And who is _this?_" I asked, reaching out and patting the big black dog by his side. It closed its eyes and wagged its tail at my touch, but suddenly opened them again, peering at Draco and growling, backing away. It seemed like it _recognized _him.

"Sorry, this is Snuffles. He really doesn't like... uh... people." he said cryptically. He seemed to like me well enough.

"Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow in potions," I said smiling. Draco practically had a heart attack when he heard that. He jerked violently behind me in response. I held his hand soothingly. It clenched mine tightly. We walked away.

"Why were you so _friendly _to him?" He asked, angrily, "Don't you know what a filthy blood traitor he is?"

"I'm a blood traitor too," I reminded him, "As are you." Draco raised a hand to his chest as if I had accused him of murder.

"Were you not my boyfriend with an extreme liking of Coca-Cola?" I asked teasingly. He seemed to relax, laughing a bit. I smiled at him.

Me and Draco arrived early to Platform 93/4 the next day. We quickly found a carriage and I sat down while Draco put his things in the prefect carriage. He returned shortly, promising not to go until some other friends of mine had arrived. Unfortunately, that friend was Pansy.

"Oh, _hello _Drakey, how was your Christmas?" she asked in an unbearably whiny voice.

"It was... uh... fine." was all he said. They stood for another moment, draco awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. She looked at him expectantly. Finally, I sighed. If Pansy wanted to say something, she would bloody well say it, whether we liked it or not.

"How was your Christmas, Pansy?" I asked with as little enthusiasm as possible. She ignored my lack of energy and began a passionate- and _very _detailed- description of her passing in Italy. We were only on day two of the holiday when, half an hour later, Stella came to our rescue.

"Stella, you're here! I was just telling Draco and Angie here about my travels..."

"Sounds _fascinating,_" interrupted Stella, sarcasm evident in her voice. Pansy harrumphed and crossed her arms.

"C'mon, Draco, let's go to the _prefects _cabin, I've had quite enough of Stella anyway." She stormed off, steam practically coming out of her ears. Mind, if she had been eating some if the Weasely sweets it might have been.

"I'll see you later," said Draco with a wink, and then rolling his eyes and slumping forward, trudging in the direction Pansy had gone.

"What was that?" asked Stella, and eyebrow raised.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"That wink. I saw it. Are you two..."

"Are we what?" Was it that obvious. Did it matter if it was?

"Oh, come on Angie, I'm you're best friend. Are you?"

"Maybe just a little," I said, and we both began to giggle. It felt like a weight off my chest.

"So, what's it like? Going out with Draco? He's never really had boyfriends, only ever... playthings. People he kept to entertain him."

"Well I am no plaything,"

"What makes you so sure?" asked Stella, concerned. She just didn't understand.

"Because I love him," I said, amazed at myself as the words left my mouth, amazed by the confidence they carried. I looked at Stella, but she was not smiling at me as I had expected. Her eyes were raised, looking at a figure behind me. Her mouth was slightly ajar.

I turned to see Blaise in the doorway. He had changed since the last time I saw him. He was bulkier now, he had lost that last bit of softness in him. His eyes had deep hollows beneath them, but most prominent were the eyes themselves. They held no more of their previous light, they were dead.

"Stella, Angeline," he said, courteously, taking up a seat beside the window. He spoke little when Stella inquired after his family and how he was doing, and soon we all just gave up talking. The journey back to school was silent and tense.

The thing about holidays is that once they are over, it is as if they never happened. Teachers will once again dominate your life with homework, your peers will once again take up any time left and sleep makes itself scarce.

It was two weeks in that I realised my amazing holiday spent with Draco might well have been a dream, as my mind was so overloaded with work I could barely remember it. The last two weeks had been a blur. There had been a break out in Azkaban, and many of the most dangerous Death Eaters had escaped, and yet my upcoming potions test somehow weighed far more heavily on my mind.

We were sitting in Divination when Umbridge's head popped up through the trap door. I wondered what she could be doing here, she had already completed her inspection.

"Miss Tralewny?" she asked, purposefully neglecting the word _professor._

"Uh, yes?" she asked, startled.

"May I have a word?" she asked, annoyingly childlike.

"Well, well yes I suppose," she said.

"Well, the thing is, Miss Tralewny, I- well the Ministry actually- feels that you are no longer fit for your post here. We wish for your departure immediately."

Professor Tralewny spluttered.

"Are you... firing me?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, yes. Pack your things and leave immediately."

Then, Tralewny snapped.

"You vile woman. You will pay for this, you'll see. In the black wings of theastrals will my revenge be exacted. You are a beast, no more than swine, and you deserve to rot in..."

"That is quite enough!" squeaked an exasperated Umbridge.

"Nothing will ever be enough for you, you evil, abhorrent woman. You are a wretch, a blemish on the face of the very Earth, and none of us can wait till the day we may be rid of you. I am going to Professor Dumbledore immediately. He ought to bend your saggy behind back into shape!"

Umbridge followed dumbly, stunned. She looked as if she was about to explode, but had nothing to say. As the trapdoor closed behind her, the whole classroom fell silent.

"That. Was. Awesome." I said, and the whole class began to cheer for our beloved Divination teacher.


	22. The Last DA Meeting

_**A/N: Different from the book- obviously. Just bear with me, and keep commenting and keep me motivated :)**_

The next Divination lesson was very different than our previous ones had been. Mainly because we actually _worked. _Our new teacher's name was Firenze and he was- as I soon learnt- half horse. Which begged the question how did he get up to the astronomy tower in the first place?

Draco began grumbling the moment we arrived in the room, something about the school not even bothering with real wizards to treat us any more. I said I'd sit with Marietta. This proved to be a good choice, as as soon as we sat down, new textbooks were slapped down on our desks. I could practically feel his anger.

"Astronomy," began Firenze, "has always been the best way to divine the future. You have all learnt enough about... hehhem... tea leaves," he said distastefully, "now we will continue your learning with a more scientific method. Please turn to page 7 in your books," for the first time ever in Divination, we were almost too busy for me to listen to Marietta's constant chatter. She managed to mumble nonetheless.

"Umbridge wants me in her office during lunch," she said, eyes concentrated on the page.

"What for?" I asked, writing down nothing in particular.

"You- You can't tell the others, Ok?" she said. Her tone made me look up at her. I tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn't look at me.

"Ettie, what did you do?" I asked. She still said nothing. "Marietta?" I urged.

"I forgot a galleon in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"So?" I asked. She looked up at me, apologetic.

"_The _galleon?" I gasped, trying to keep my voice down. "Ettie, how could you be so stupid?"

"I- I don't know, but I know she's going to ask me what it's for. Angie, what if I don't tell her?" Her voice was terrified. I looked at her pityingly. My own hand tingled. I wondered if Marietta was strong enough.

"You have to grin and bear it. It's just a new galleon, fresh from the mint. You charmed it to tell the date, because you're bad at keeping track. You've done nothing wrong. Right?"

She nodded slowly, turning back to her book. I knew that she understood me, but I couldn't trust her. I would find out the result soon enough.

When the lesson finished, I returned to my room and put away my books. Then, I headed over to lunch. Walking through the common room, I checked for Draco but he wasn't in there. So, I looked for Stella, but saw her giggling under Blaise's arm. This was a new development.

I halted in a corner where the fire had thrown a shadow. I was unnoticed, so I watched them. Stella had a big crush on Blaise, so being under his arm, pressed into him made her eyes light up. He, however, looked dead inside. He seemed to regard Stella as simply something to be kept at his side for appearances, like an accessory.

As I watched, she moved to hug him. He ignored her, and I saw disappointment in her face. Yes, he had changed. It seemed he had come back aware of quite how much Slytherin girls idolised him, and it gave him a sense of possession over us all. All except me. He had no right to me. Just as I thought this, he noticed me lurking in the corner. No emotion passed his face, he just looked back at Stella with cold disregard. It hurt more than when he liked me. I realised I had felt that same possession of Blaise. I would have to let go of it all now; I would never again be his princess, so I lingered no longer and went to dinner.

Draco and his thugs weren't at the Slytherin table either, so I was forced to sit with Millicent. She was scoffing down a chicken breast like she would never eat again. It quite put me off my own dinner. I pushed it away from me, hoping that the Room of Requirement would sense my hunger.

Before I went to the DA meeting, I looked around one last time for Draco. It was hopeless, I realised, so I gave up. As I walked past Umbridge's office, I saw a girl run past me, her face in her hands, wailing. This had become a regular thing, but this girl could very well have been Marietta, had it not been for the large ugly boils which covered her face. I wondered idly if there had been a problem in potions.

On the third walk, the large oak doors appeared and I entered, checking either side to make sure I wasn't followed. I was early, so I sat down on one of the pillows-turned-crash-mats and listened to my stomach grumble. Right on cue, a cupboard I either hadn't noticed or hadn't existed before opened and inside I saw a sandwich sitting there. I took it, thanking the room- as absurd as it seemed- and then dug in.

I was half way through the second slice when Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, who had always been less trusting of me. Until he saw the sandwich in my hands. "Where did you get that?" He asked.

"This room is amazing," I replied, taking another bite. Hermione came and took a seat next to me.

"Isn't it? I've searched everywhere, but I can't find any kind of spell that can give a room the kind of consciousness it possesses. It seems to be exclusive to this one." I nodded, not really caring all that much. Harry joined her on the floor. He was more shifty and nervous than I had ever seen him.

"What's up, Harry?" I asked.

"I was just thinking about Dobby," he said, idly staring at the floor.

"Who's Dobby?" I asked.

"The Malfoy's old house elf," he chuckled, "I wish I had seen the look on Lucius Malfoy's face when he realised he had released him, Harry's fault of course. They're valuable, house elves are,"

"It's barbaric, actually," said Hermione, interrupting Ron. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up Ron, all I'm saying is that they're really just slaves. They're all mistreated. They're not even allowed proper clothes!"

"Hogwarts has house elves. How do you think they make all their food?"

"Yes, but those house elves are _free _Ron, they _want _to be here."

"Shut up, the two of you," said Harry. He had clearly heard this argument more than once.

"What about him Harry?"

"Yeah, I- I just haven't seen him in a while. I kind of miss him," he said, then he shook it off, looking up at us all with his lovely green eyes. "Maybe we should get started anyway? I thought we'd do some patronuses today."

"A proper patronus?" I asked, we'd read about them in our books. They were supposed to be notoriously hard to conjure. In fact, it was NEWT material, not OWL stuff.

"If I can do it, so can you," he said, flashing me a brilliant smile.

Just then, the rest of the club entered, or at least most of them, and Harry announced that we would be practicing patronus charms. Most had the same reaction I did, but eventually we got to work. Immediately, a proud stag burst out of Harry's wand and galloped around the room. Soon enough, it was joined by Hermione's silver otter and Cho's glistening swan. But a few of us were having trouble. Neville, next to me, was shooting small slivery pellets from his wand.

"I... just... can't... get... the..." at that moment, a badger popped out of it, but only for a second. Neville looked even happier than he did when he was thinking of his memory. I still couldn't do it.

"What's your memory?" Harry asked as I tried for the twentieth time.

"When I was younger, I visited my Grandmother for a whole day, and we sat and drew together. I still have the pictures. But my mum took me home because she..."

"There's your problem. You're memory is tainted. You need something bigger, happier, pure love." I focused. What pure love did I have? The answer was obvious, my parents. But as I thought about them, a nagging feeling of guilt came. I still hadn't told my mother. She was still grieving for the wrong man.

And then, I was wrapped in Draco's arms outside Umbridge's office that first lesson, my hand stinging like hell, but none of it mattering, his cheek pressed into my head.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" I shouted, and from my wand burst a bright, silvery creature, but not the one I was expecting. Slytherin, granddaughter of Voldemort and a parselmouth, and from my wand sprung a mighty lion, turning up its head and roaring. It shimmered an iridescent silver, and for a moment, lit up the room as all the others went out in awe. I stood stunned, until I heard and loud _crack_, and lost my focus, allowing the creature to become no more than mist.

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry Potter... she..." he panted. The creature named Dobby had a small figure and a bony frame, his skin barely clinging to his body. He was a half starved little thing, with the biggest and most earnest eyes. They were currently terrified.

"She... Harry Potter... She..." he kept panting.

"Who, Dobby, Who?" he asked, "Is it Umbridge? Does she know about DA?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!" Dobby finally gasped, falling to the ground.

"Well?" asked Harry, looking around, "What are you waiting for? RUN!" And they ran. Everybody rushed immediately for the exit, but we were too late. I saw Cho and a few others slip away, but the majority found themselves confronted by Umbridge, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. I backed away as Draco spotted me. He ran straight through the crowd, tripping Harry on the way, and then forcing me hard into a corner with a tight grip on my arm. A stunning spell whizzed above my head and hit the wall behind me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked urgently.

"I- I wanted to learn..."

"Do you know what she'll do to the people she finds?" He asked. I heard desperation in his voice. Then, he turned away from me to the wall behind me. "Help her," he begged it, "please, I love her."

Obligingly, a door appeared and, before I could complain, he shoved me through. It sealed behind me, becoming no more than a slab of stone. I slid down against it and began to cry, trying to make sense of what had just happened.


	23. Counsel From a Hat

Crying would help me no longer, I thought a little while later. And so, despite how rubbish I felt, I dragged my bedraggled self upright and began to trudge down the dark tunnel the Room had made for me. It was dark, I thought, so I drew out my wand. I hesitated, and then, shut my eyes and thought of Draco and the bracelet on my wrist, the one he had given me all those months ago.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" I said, with all the energy I had left. Just as before, from my wand sprung a bright silver lion. It padded along beside me silently as I began to walk again. I placed a hand on its great back. It felt like touching a cloud, very much just like air, but you know there's something special about it. It looked up at me as we walked in silence and I contemplated it. Why was it not a snake? Its earnest eyes offered no answer, but it radiated happiness from its every pore. It was filled with Draco, with everything I loved about him.

I looked at the tunnel. How did this work? I had read about the Room of Requirement as well as Hermione. It was a room of legend, supposed to open to only those who were pure of intention. The same went for what it created for the dweller. Like when it made me a sandwich. Like when it made this tunnel for Draco. To save me.

"_Please, I love her,"_

The words had always felt too mature for us when we exchanged them. I had never been in love before, something in me was never sure I was. It had felt like we were playing a game, but hearing him say them with so much force, seeing the wall open for me. He was pure of intention. He was honest. He loved me. I knew that I now loved him too.

My lion treading beside me was growing dimmer. I looked up to see that there was light coming at the end of the tunnel.

I mounted the small incline at the end of the tunnel to find myself in Dumbledore's office. The man himself was at the end, hastily packing some books into a small trunk.

"Ah, Miss Wint, I was wondering when you'd make your appearance," he said, still packing his books, not even looking up.

"How did you..."

"The Room and I have a little agreement. It lets me know when it is planning to open a tunnel up into my office. I saw the name Hannah Abbott on the list for you little club- or my club" he chuckled, "Hannah Abbott has been ill most of this and last term. I have written frequently to inquire after her health. She could not have been attending, and yet her name is on the list. That meant somebody who could not afford to be found out. A slytherin. There is only one Slytherin I know with so many friends in other houses." He looked up and smiled at me, proud of his own skills of deduction.

"Yes, Professor." I said, stunned.

"I have to leave, my dear, before they get back. Would you mind too terribly if I asked you to lock the door behind you. I wouldn't be surprised if the Azkaban guards aren't on their way already," he said, closing the trunk with a great heave.

"But, Professor, how will you get out of the building?" I asked, "Nobody can apparate in or out of Hogwarts,"

"Some rules, Miss Wint, are a little more lenient for the headmaster," he replied, winking. Then, he turned on his heel and was gone. I was alone.

As I walked towards the door, I noticed the sorting hat, no longer on its place on the shelf, but now on a table. I reached out to touch it.

"Well, well, Angeline Wint, how could I be of interest?" it asked, startling me.

"It's about... my patronus," I said.

"Oh, so you've found out have you? Yes, the patronus does take up an entire section in your head, it's fascinating to watch."

"Does it count when you're sorting?"

"Certainly. But you don't want to know about the patronus, you want to know about the sorting, don't you?"

"Well, yes," I said, looking at its beaten leather exterior. How could something so mediocre looking hold such power?

"You, Miss Wint, were hard to sort."

"But you declared me Slytherin almost immediately," I said, puzzled. Was it trying to make me feel better?

"Well yes, but there were many ways in which you could have been in other houses. You have the wit and intelligence of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, and most predominantly, the heart and courage of a Gryffindor, but..."

"The blood of a Slytherin," I said, sighing. The thing that plagued me.

"Not necessarily only that. I have seen into many heads in my time, Angeline. You have found something in Slytherin, have you not?"

"I-" I thought of Draco. Had the sorting hat _matched me up _with Draco?

"Sometimes, when I'm feeling cheeky, I don't only sort into _houses,_" it said, and if a hat can smile, it certainly did.

"So, if I hadn't been the heir,"

"After some deliberation, I would have said you were a Gryffindor," it said. Somehow, it felt harder knowing this than it had being in Slytherin. If, some centuries ago, I hadn't had a relative named Salazar Slytherin, I might have been friends with all those people I longed to know. I tugged my silver-and-green tie from my neck. It felt mediocre now.

As I did so, I noticed a glint on my wrist. The bracelet. It had brought me Draco, the blood that ran through my veins. It was all worth it for Draco.

"Thank you," I said to the hat. It didn't respond, it had gone limp. Suddenly, I heard a rattling at the door. Somebody trying to get in. Of course, Dumbledore's door would not open to a simple _Alohamora. _

I ran away from the door as quickly as I could. From nowhere, a massive red bird swooped down in front of me, the most exquisite creature I had ever seen. I recognized it as Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. It flew deliberately into a shelf and tapped on three random books with its beak. The shelf flew open, revealing behind it yet another tunnel. You've got to love Hogwarts.

I ran quickly through and it shut behind me, just in time for me to hear the door fly open. Footsteps filled the room as I listened against the wall. As far as I could tell, they fanned out around the whole .

"Nothing over here,"

"Here either,"

"Hey, there's a door here! Nothing in here, never mind,"

"Look at all this sh-"

"He's not here,"

"Nope,"

"Nuh-uh,"

And then a loud, piercing scream that ripped through even the wall I was listening at. It could only be Umbridge. I ran down the tunnel as quickly as I could, afraid that in her tantrum she would somehow find my hiding place. I exited into one of the corridors on the third floor from behind a tapestry. I checked my watch. Quarter to nine, I was still allowed to be out of bed. I smoothed my hair and walked calmly back to my dorm, trying to ignore my thudding heart


	24. Don't Lead Forever With Your Heart

I awoke the next morning from the same nightmare I had had Christmas eve. A boy dragging me, limp in his arms. He was crying, wailing, tears streaming down his noseless face. Then, in an instant, he was a boy again, young and handsome, falling to his knees. He cried out in anguish, and I opened my eyes. I was looking up into his face.

"Beth," he said, stroking my head. Then, he was a man again, "Don't leave me."

I felt my eyes begin to close again, my heart begin to slow. Rain began to fall, droplets splintering against my cheeks. I could barely feel them now, I was just so _cold. _I took a deep breath, and then let it all go. I heard a last howl of pain, and then I awoke, cold sweat against my neck, chilling me.

I found tears under my eyes, and Stella was immediately at the foot of my bed.

"Are you alright, Angie? You were yelling quite loudly," she looked concerned. I took her hand, trying to steady my breath.

"I'm fine, thanks. Sorry if I woke you." She looked at me skeptically. "Really, Stell, I'm fine. It was just a bad dream,"

"Ok," she said uncertainly. Then, she checked her watch. "Well, it's six fifteen now anyways, there doesn't seem any point in sleeping now. Hows about we go wander about the castle a bit? I want to check on Peck."

Peck was Stella's owl she had received for her birthday. He had been caught delivering letters without going through Umbridge's screening first and had damaged a wing. Stella had been worried sick about him.

So, we got dressed and mounted the many stairs to the Owlery, where Peck was waiting. Beside the Tawny owl sat a very handsome white one. I knew her as Hedwig, Harry's owl. She was sitting proudly on her perch when she saw me and flew over, a letter clutched in her talons. I prised it out. It was an emergency letter from St Mungo's. They were allowed to bypass Umbridge's investigations. I had heard that Ron's father was being treated there, Hedwig must have been going back and forth a lot.

However, this letter was not addressed to Ron Weasely. It bore my name. I tore it open quickly.

_Dear Angeline,_

_I fear to inform you that your Grandmother, Beth Madralda Bellast, was taken seriously ill last night. We have already informed your mother, but she had expressed no wish to see her. It seems she has already made her peace with it. However, after meeting you months ago, I thought you might want to say your goodbyes. Please hurry, Pauline._

It hit me like a ton weight. Not my Grandmother, not Betty, not when I had just gotten her back. I had to go see her. I didn't care about the consequences of leaving by broom and not the Hogwarts Express that ran on the weekends.

I looked up at Stella, my eyes watering.

"Stell, I've got to go," I told her. She looked over, seeing the St Mungo's seal on the envelope and nodding. Then, I ran. I streaked all the way to the grand floor, but when I reached the Great Hall, I stopped.

_Love is something well worth finding. Nothing lasts, but you must treasure it for the time that it lives, and never resent it when it perishes._

I ran downstairs and into the boys dorm, shaking Draco awake.

"Wha-"

"You've got to come with me, Draco. Please, I need you." He heard the plea in my voice and was immediately up, dressing. From the other side of the room, I heard a groan. Blaise sat up in his bed, blinking awake.

"What are you doing at this ungodly hour?" he asked, annoyed. "Get out of here!"

"Shut up Blaise, I'm here for Draco."

"Fine by me," he said, turning over and pulling his duvet over his head. I gave an exasperated sigh.

"Ok, ready." He said.

"Great, we have to go. _Now._"

We ran to the broom cupboard, hastily pulling out our Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-Ones. I clambered on mine quickly.

"Anti-Muggle charms!" I shouted behind me as I began to lift up, and bolted towards St Mungo's in London

We touched down in London at nine in the morning, and I ran in quickly, intuitively finding my way to the Spell Damage ward. When finally I reached the room my Grandmother was in, I halted.

"I-I can't" I said, somewhat surprised.

"You can't what? Angie, what's going on?"

"My Grandmother's in there, she's... I can't just watch her..."

Draco clasped my shoulders and spun me to face him. i couldn't meet his eyes, so I started at the floor, eyeing my worn boots.

"Angie, Angie look at me," I forced myself to look up, "Angie, your Grandmother is not going to last forever, heck, nobody does. That's why you _can, _Ok? You can, because otherwise, you'll regret it. I nodded, and then, mustering up all my strength, I opened the door, clutching Draco's hand.

"My Angeline! Is that you?" rasped a voice coming from the bed. The frame of Betty sat up, skin barely finding anywhere to hang on limp bones. The hollows under her eyes had become more prominent, and her hand trembled as she reached out to me. I took it, immediately rushing to her side, pressing her cold hand to the warmth of my cheek.

"My dear child, what are you doing here? I thought I was never to see you again. Maybe it would have been better that way. One less to mourn for."

I shook my head in her cheek, unable to form words. Tears streamed noiselessly down my face as I looked upon the woman I had been deprived of. Betty's eyes still glowed as she regarded me. I reached my hand behind me, beckoning Draco. He approached the bed. I took his arm and pulled him forward.

"This is him," I choked. I had never seen such a smile break my Grandmother's face before, but it warmed my heart and made me cry even harder, knowing it would be the first and last time. As the sobs began to rip themselves from my body, shaking me each time they escaped, Draco excused himself. Betty placed her other hand on mine, taking hers from my cheek, stilling the bawls.

"Love is something well worth finding. Nothing lasts, but you must treasure it for the time that it lives, and never resent it when it perishes. Angie, you must remember that, _please. _This boy, I know him. I knew him long ago in another form. He loves you, but I dread that your fate may mirror mine. Don't forever lead with your heart, it's the easiest way to have it break."

I smiled a weak smile as if in consent. Later I would learn the value of her words.

Then, I hugged her with all the remaining strength I had, and whispered a remorseful 'goodbye'. She fell asleep before I left. When I did, I needed Draco to support me to my broom. I cried all the way home. The next day I received a letter. Betty had died.


	25. Give Her Hell, Peeves

I woke up to find Stella sitting at the foot of my bed, shaking me. I rose groggily and checked my watch. I had slept through the wake-up call.

"Angeline! Good, you're awake. Today's important."

"What? Important? Why?" I was much too tired to try and remember the significance of today.

"Today we choose our careers," I sat up.

"Our whats?"

"We all have consultations with Professor Snape today about what NEWTs we'll be taking next year. They define what jobs we can apply for when we get out of Hogwarts. I want to be an auror."

"A what?"

"They're like the wizarding police force. They get to change their appearance whenever they want. I wonder what my hair would look like pink?"

I began to worry. Stella had clearly been thinking about this a long time. She knew what she wanted to bring to the wizarding world when she left Hogwarts, but me? I didn't even know what I would have wanted to do in university, let alone what _normal _job I wanted to do. How could I possibly choose from an array of jobs I'd never even heard of.

I worried all the way through breakfast and potions. What if I didn't have what it takes to work in the wizarding world at all, save being the lady who pushes the trolley on the Hogwarts express? I worried about it so much, I accidentally added a drop too many of beetle extract just as Snape raised his head to look at me. He glared as he saw my cauldron begin to bubble. Quickly, thinking on my feet, I added an extra clipping of finch feather and the potion went back to normal. I looked up, hoping to find Snape impressed, and only saw him cocking an eyebrow at me. I shook my head and went back to my potion and my worrying.

My appointment came much too quickly as potions ended and Professor Snape announced that he would begin all Slytherin consultations in thirty minutes. My last name beginning with a 'w', I was second to last, just before Blaise, so we both sat awkwardly on a bench outside his office whilst Stella chatted to Professor Snape about her dreams of being an auror. She came out looking disheartened.

"What's wrong?" I asked, passing her into the office.

"I'd have to do potions as a NEWT." she mumbled. I was almost in the doorway when Professor McGonagall appeared behind me.

"Professor Snape, I have finished all of my consultations, so to get this done faster, perhaps I should help you with one of yours?"

"Yes, fine," said Snape dismissively. "Take Miss Wint here and I'll finish up with Mr Zabini."

"Of course," she said graciously, gesturing at me to follow as she began to lead the way to her office.

When we were inside and settled, she began to speak.

"I understand, Miss Wint, that you probably have no idea what you want to do for the wizarding world when you leave here, seeing as you have only been in Hogwarts for a couple of terms."

"No, Professor, I have no idea."

"Well, you're in luck. I do. Professor Snape could not suggest this to you for the sake of his own pride, but perhaps you would consider becoming a muggle attaché. A kind of go-between between the muggle and wizarding worlds."

"Muggles _know _about wizards?"

"A select few must, Miss Wint. Let's say that one of our convicts escapes into the muggle world with the intent to kill muggles. The Muggle authorities must be informed and must the media whilst still not revealing the true identity of the wizard."

"I suppose," I began to wonder about this job. An attaché. In another life, where wizards didn't exist, I had once considered a career in politics. I never really considered it when I came to Hogwarts, but the more I thought about it, how much more perfect could I be for the job? I knew so much about the muggle world, and I was learning about the wizarding world. I could have no bias.

"You would have to take some specialised NEWTs, and some are only applicable to this job, Miss Wint, so if you don't want it, speak up now." I said nothing. "Ok then, the first is History of Magic, NEWT level is taught by a professor you have yet to meet, as Professor Binns is not really capable of gaining Exceeds Expectations marks from his pupils. The next is Muggle Studies, which I assume you will be fine in. Another is Potions, which is new to the requirements. Sometimes the muggles can't handle it and we need to make a few draughts to get them back to normal. The other new one is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Some wizards are resentful of the close relationship between wizards and muggles. The final NEWT is your choice, but I suggest Transfiguration. Not only because it is mu subject, but you would have no idea how useful it is to have an _animagus _in the muggle world."

I nodded, trying to take it all in. Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies. Altogether it seemed pretty feasible.

"I think I could do that," I said nervously.

"You'll need a little more dedication then that, Miss Wint," said McGonagall with a wink. And then she dismissed me.

Draco was waiting for me outside.

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked. He obviously only wanted me to ask him.

"I haven't decided yet, what about you?" I asked. Telling him what I had chosen would probably start a fight I didn't want to have.

"Minister of Magic," he said, puffing out his chest importantly.

"Really?" I said, stifling a laugh.

"No," he said, smiling. "If I did I'd have to arrange meetings with the British muggle Prime-Minister. I wouldn't do that no matter how much you paid me. No, I intend to work in the Ministry as something far more important. Head of the Ministry Law Courts." he looked mightily pleased with himself. My Draco, the lawyer.

"Impressive," I said.

Suddenly, something came tricking around our feet. It was a horrible, brown-green kind of mud. It came racing at us as we stood, turning the whole corridor into a marsh. I looked around to see other bewildered students, standing knee-deep in the stuff. For a moment, there was confusion, and then, above the swamp, floated two bright orange heads. As they neared, their bodies appeared, and I saw that they were both standing a levitating platform. Cheering erupted in the corridor as they passed, waving and pulling faces.

"Where are you two going?" asked a young hufflepuff beside me,

"TO UMBRIDGE!" shouted Fred Weasely, punching the air with his fist. This brought on another wave of ecstasy. When finally they were out of sight, the students quietened, realising that they were quite stuck.

"Hey, how do we get out of this?" asked one voice after a while.

"I don't know..."

"We're stuck!"

"It's all _over _my robes..."

"Well it's in _my _hair..."

I had an idea.

"EVANESCO" I shouted above the noise, and suddenly the swamp was gone. But the fun wasn't over. In the distance, the two fiery red blobs were bolting back towards us, this time on brooms. The thunderous cheering began again, people cheering 'Weas-ley, Weas-ley!' over and over again.

'If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated here, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley - Weasley' Wizarding Wheezes,' Fred said in a loud voice. 'Our new premises!'

'Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,' Said George, whizzing after him. The crowd continued their clamorous applause as Umbridge ran out into the corridor,

"STOP THEM!" she demanded, but nobody listened to her.

"GIVE HER HELL, PEEVES!" yelled George to Peeves behind him. Peeves, who didn't take orders ordinarily, was only too happy to salute the beaming twins and began to batter Umbridge with the many rhymes he had been saving up until this moment. The two boys wheeled around to face the students, and, balancing on the brooms, took deep bows, then whirled back round and shot out into the outstanding sunset, triumphant.

The moment they disappeared, the students scurried back to their classrooms so as not to have to face Umbridge's wrath. What a send off.


	26. The Exchange of Hearts

**A/N: Just a reminder to please review, and also, invisigum is mine, I just really wish it existed.**

OWLs were upon us far too quickly. Before I was even aware of it, I was sitting down writing out a lengthy answer to the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, wondering why they insisted on a written exam when it was a very practical subject. Nonetheless, muggle studying tactics helped me a lot, and I managed to remember many of the answers from the textbook. Draco to my left was scribbling ferociously on the paper, but from his exasperated expression it was all likely to be waffle.

Stella on the other side was less enthusiastic. She was leaning back on her chair chewing a piece of Invisigum. It was a chewing gum invented by one of the Ravenclaws which was bewitched so that no teachers could catch you chewing it. I had finished my packet that morning, but had no time to think about chewing.

Whilst me and the rest of the fifth years sat scratching our heads, however, we could all hear parchment being constantly from the front of the room, a quill scratching vehemently. Hermione Granger would do just fine.

I managed to just about finish the exam when the invigilator called for us to put our quills down, but I was one of few. The groans commenced the second we handed our parchments in.

"That was horrible..."

"What'd you write for question three?"

"I swear I nearly cried..."

"That was brilliant," came Hermione's voice, Ron grumbling beside her. While she chatted away about her answers for this and that, Ron nodded towards me. He rolled his eyes. I laughed. He mimed tying a noose around his neck. I laughed harder. He mimed taking out his wand and pointing it to his chest, simulating a kickback as it shot him in the chest and I practically fell on the floor.

"...Anyway, so finally I decided the answer must be- Ron, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he replied innocently, winking at me. I grinned. Hermione looked at me expectantly. I raised my hand to show I was innocent too. She sighed and walked away. Ron followed her, stuttering apologies.

Transfiguration was less of a cake-walk. The written exam was easy enough, Transfiguration was the subject I had been most fascinated over my summer of wizarding initiation, and I had studied until four the night before. It was the practical work that stumped me. I stared down at my iguana, hoping that it would just disappear itself. But it appeared that that was not to be. So, I drew out my wand, an eye on the clock, and began to attempt. It was on the fourth try that it finally disappeared. I was dismissed.

It was then that I learned that there was indeed a practical exam for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Umbridge had just neglected to teach us any of it. I entered for my examination to see her sitting amongst the examiners, a wide smile on her pudgy face. I determined at once to do as well as I could.

"We will start with a simple spell first," said the wizard I would be duelling. "Disarm me,"

With a casual flick of my wand, his was soon in my hand. This was nothing to be impressed by.

"_Stupefy,_" he shot my way suddenly.

"_Ennervate!_" I shouted, shielding myself. He looked impressed.

"Alright then, _Incendio,_"

"_Aguamenti,_"

"_Impervius,_"

"_Finite Incantatem,_"

"Very well done." he said, lowering his wand again. They all looked impressed now, all except for Umbridge who was fuming. Suddenly, he waved his wand again. "_Serpensortia,_" he said. I didn't recognise the spell, but it was immediately obvious what it did. A snake sprang from his wand and slithered towards me. I thought on my feet.

"_Reducio,_" I said. the snake shrank, but continued to slither towards me. I was out of spells, so I followed my primary instinct. To talk to it. "Stop." I commanded. It stopped. The examiners stared at me slack jawed. The snake disappeared.

"I hope you realise, Miss Wint, that you will receive no bonus points for speaking Parseltongue."

"Is there any way I can get bonus points?" I asked teasingly. They all looked at each other. The one I was duelling shrugged.

"There was one point rewarded today, I suppose we could offer you the same opportunity. If you can produce a Patronus charm, we would be happy to reward you with it." I smiled and stepped back. Easiest A ever. In my mind's eye, I was in Draco's arms again, and I raised my wand.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" My lion leapt from my wand with a mighty roar, causing Umbridge to flinch. The other examiners stood and walked over to look at it. The silvery creature regarded them with disdain. I was very proud of it.

"Excellent, really excellent," I heard one of them say.

"She's a beauty, this one," another agreed.

When they lost interest, I allowed the patronus to dissolve, beaming. I practically skipped out of the exam.

Divination was easy enough, mainly because I had no intention to pass with flying colours. I came in as relaxed as anybody taking an exam could be, calling tea-leaves as I saw them and making up death omens appearing in the crystal ball, just as I had learnt from Professor Tralewny. My real problem was Astronomy. That night at eleven o'clock, the exam began, and I took immediately to mapping all the familiar constellations I could find on my map, but I had already forgotten most of them.

It didn't matter, the last few minutes of the exam were completely consumed by Hagrid the Gamekeeper's removal from Hogwarts. With twenty minutes left to go, I noticed Harry in the corner, his telescope not focused on the sky but very much on the ground in the direction of Hagrid's hut. I gave up on my chart and turned mine in that direction too. I saw six figures, the leader unmistakably Umbridge, marching up to the hut. I saw the hulking figure of Hagrid answer the door and then red light flashing. Stunning spells.

"No!" cried Hermione, who had also been watching.

"Young lady, this is an exam!" cried a stunned examiner. But everybody ignored him as Hagrid's voice was carried by the wind up to the tower. He yelled at the aurors until somebody came to his aid. Professor McGonagall.

After more shouting and more flashing light, Hagrid managed to make his escape, but McGonagall lay on the floor, apparently stunned. Then, the exam was declared over and we were all sent back to our rooms.

I came back utterly exhausted and sure that I would fail, but at that moment I couldn't have cared less.

After a long few weeks of exams, the end was finally in sight, the last exam looming. History of Magic, by far the most important and the most highly anticipated. I had read the reading for the past five years all through the summer and again since career day, trying my level best to be able to commit it all to memory. It was the first step to becoming and attaché after all.

The exam was as hard as I had expected. It consisted of at least two hundred questions, all expecting long and detailed answers, so I began as quickly as I could. Now and then I found myself playing around, making my language particularly fancy or inserting a joke here or there. My hand was cramping up and my head was pounding. My eyes refused to focus on the paper, but I was not the only one having trouble. In fact, a few minutes before the end, when I was scribbling an ending to the final question and turning back to check my answers, I heard a loud scream of agony behind me, and I turned to see Harry fall to the floor. The room erupted, people rushing around to help him, his friends helping him up and escorting him out of the room. The exam was over. We had just exited hell.

That night was a night of celebration. Me and my roommates race to our dorm after dinner to begin the festivities. Pansy had managed to purchase a bottle of Firewhiskey, and we each took turns to take a swig. I had no more then that, and simply observed as the girls one-by-one passed out. I put them all in their beds, and then walked over to mine, finding a note on it. I wondered when it got there. I unfolded it to find Draco's handwriting.

_Meet me in the Astronomy Tower._

I went immediately, hoping that he hadn't left yet. I stole through the corridors, but there was nobody patrolling them tonight. Umbridge's minions had the night off, and her and her aurors were probably still out there searching for Hagrid or trying to explain why they attacked a respected Professor.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the tower, I found the first floating candle. As I continued up, I found a second. They increased in number the closer I got, and when finally I reached the top, they were everywhere, filling the tower with a beautiful golden glow. Bathing my Draco in their glorious light as he waited for me.

"Congratulations," he said with a smile. I glided towards him, overwhelmed by the beauty and the effort this must have taken.

"To you too," I replied, leaning in and kissing him softly. And then I kissed him again.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much." He pulled me away so that he could look into my eyes. Tears of emotion glistened in his. Those eyes could tell me more than his words ever did that he spoke the truth every time he said he loved me. I raised up on my tiptoes, and kissed him more passionately then I had ever done, forcing him down. We lay on the cold stone floor of the tower, kissing deeply when he sat up.

"No, stop, Angeline," he said, pulling away from me.

"What?" I asked.

"No, we have to stop before we go to far. I don't want you doing something you'll regret." The amount he cared caused me to hitch my breath.

"Draco, I could never regret... _being _with you."

"You don't know that. I don't want to take that risk," he said earnestly.

"I love you, Draco." was all I said. He looked up at me questioningly. He would not continue without proper consent. "I _want _you." I said, and then, as if to prove it, a undid a button on my shirt, and then another. Draco nodded, as if to say he understood.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

I had witnessed the finest of the wizarding world, but to this day that was the most magical night of my life. Our bodies intertwined fit like every cliché suggested. Every moment was one of love. I never felt closer to Draco then I did that night. It was then that I truly gave him my heart, and truly received his in return.


	27. He Ruined Me

**A/N: To all of you who have read and commented and followed Angeline through her journey in Hogwarts, she and I would both like to thank you. Unfortunately for me, this is where the story will climax and draw to its close. This is the first fanfic that I have ever finished, and I have found that it's far harder to end a story then to give up on it, so thank you for sticking by me and reading through it all. Anyway, enough with the drivel and on with the show...**

I awoke in bliss, sunlight seeping in to the astronomy tower and tickling my eyelids. I blinked and turned my head to look at Draco, still asleep beside me. His face was practically godlike, perfectly smooth and angled. He sensed my gaze and opened his beautiful, silvery eyes.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, stroking my arm, a hand in my hair. I snuggled against it.

"Good morning, my love." I replied. The air was still around us, and the moment held for a few minutes. Then. I checked my watch. It was six fifteen. People would be waking up, somebody was bound to find us. I sat up, finding myself tangled in a mess of mine and Draco's robes. I shook them off and retrieved my own, beginning to pull them on.

"Such a shame," began Draco, "such a magnificent body covered up by such ugly clothes." I looked over at him, cocking an eyebrow. He flashed me a brilliant smile.

"Get dressed," I said, rolling my eyes. "Someone will be up any minute. If you're dressed, then we could have come up for an early look at the sunrise."

"Angeline, are you ashamed of sleeping with me?" asked Draco, a hand on his chest in mock devastation.

"Never," I said sincerely. He smiled, pulling on his vest. Such a shame, I thought, such a magnificent body covered by such ugly clothes.

I was right to have gotten us dressed when I did, as it was less than fifteen minutes before a few other students came trickling in to watch the sunrise with us. As me and Draco leaned over the railing, one of his arms over mine, an older Hufflepuff couple came and joined us a little way away. Two Gryffindor second years joined us on the other side. More and more students came as the sky turned a more intense pink, finally giving in to the sun; which came bursting over distant hills, dispelling the pink and introducing a majestic gold and blue, taking its place as the sky's crown jewel.

We did little else the whole day, we just lounged about here and there, exchanging sweet nothings. Now, I treasure that day in my memories as the best and last day I spent with Draco Malfoy.

Sometimes, in hindsight, I wonder if the actions that lead me to follow the boy who lived lost me the boy I loved.

It was dusk, and I was sitting by a window sill in one of the many unused turrets of Hogwarts. I was contemplating DA and it's abrupt end. I held a guilt in my chest for allowing the others to receive the blame while I got off scot-free. I was thinking that if Harry ever needed me for anything, I would jump to help him.

Fate has a funny way of coming back to test the words you carelessly think in your head. As I stared out into the grey, dusty sky, I suddenly saw something zoom past my window. Then another. Then another. I realised that they were students, apparently riding thin air. I saw two, wind whipped orange heads passed by me, both were screaming. They must have been riding theastrals, I had heard of them from Draco in his Care of Magical Creatures class. They were supposed to be winged horses which one could only see when they had seen death.

If Ron and Ginny Weasely were using theastrals to get out of the castle, then they were following Harry, and they were going somewhere important. Something was afoot. I knew it for certain when I heard a scream that had to be Umbridge's. Some reckless, adventurous side of me determined immediately to follow them. To help as I had said I would.

I opened the window and drew out my wand.

"_Accio Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One!_" I shouted into the cold air, and in a matter of seconds my broom was waiting loyally outside the window. I jumped out, throwing myself onto it and shooting into the air, tailing them.

I was a lot more careful flying than the group was, hiding in any clouds I could find, ducking out occasionally to check that I was on the right track. As the lights of London appeared ahead, I slowed down. They were heading for the Ministry, they could only be. The Ministry meant trouble far worse than I had previously thought.

I kept a further distance from the rest as the rode in to Whitehall and found stepped in to a telephone box. I peeked in after a minute, but they had disappeared.

I leant my broom against a wall, hoping that nobody would want it, and stepped in just as they had. I closed the door behind me. Nothing happened. How had they gotten in to the Ministry then? I stared at the telephone. It was in a right state, half the numbers and letters scratched off. And then it hit me. It was a telephone. If you wanted to get in you had to dial a number. Or, a few letters. Immediately the answer was obvious. The only buttons left untouched were six, four and two.

I tapped in 62442. MAGIC. Immediately, the telephone box jerked and began its descent.

It opened into a large atrium, but I didn't spare time to look around. My cautious behavior had caused me to lose the group, I couldn't tell which way they had gone. There were many corridors leading off from this central space, and the entire room was empty, silent.

Or so I thought.

"And who is this?" asked a voice behind me. A shiver slithered down my spine, and I felt each individual hair on the back of my neck spring to attention. I turned slowly, and was faced with a man I had seen before in a dream. A man with slits for nostrils and a face a cold ivory colour. He stood by a large fountain that dominated the square, his stature proud, his back straight. Beside him crouched a man with a rodent-like face. His hair protruded out of his head in tufts, and his back was bent as if from a life spent bowing to the wills of another. A bit of light glinted off of one of his hands, which I saw was silver.

"Master, we must go." The man squeaked. "The boy is here."

"Allow the Death Eaters to have their fun with the children," the man said with a sneer. "I want only the boy. They will leave me him." He turned back to me, his expression unperturbed. "Answer my question, girl. Who are you?"

I didn't know how to answer. I knew certainly who he was. I had heard my Grandmother talk about him so many times. But how was I to tell him this.

"My name is Angeline Wint," I told him, my voice surprisingly calm.

"I am afraid, Angeline, that I have never heard of you." His face twisted into a cruel smile.

"Perhaps," I began in parseltongue, "you have heard of my Grandmother?"

He laughed, a loud bark of insane laughter. "Behold, Wormtail! She speaks Parseltongue! How did you gain such a gift?"

"I inherited it from my Grandfather." I said, solemnly.

"Ha! Your Grandfather must be of a great descent. Your Grandmother is a lucky woman." He kept the civilities going so naturally, but the whole time I could see his hand at his wand, waiting for the right moment to send me to my doom.

"She was." I agreed. "She loved the man very much, but love broke her. I'm sure he always loved her. I'm sure with some part of his fractured soul, he always will."

"And who is the wonderful lady who so foolishly gave her heart to one who would break it?" he asked in a sincere voice.

"She was known between us as Batty Betty, and she died mourning her Riddle." The words echoed off the stone floors and the ceilings. They hung in the air and the man's face contorted.

"Out, Wormtail," he said to the rat-faced man.

"B-But master..."

"Out!" he bellowed, and the man scurried away.

"You knew my Betty?"

"Yes," I said, trying to read his eyes, but his expression had returned to the blank palette it had always been.

"How is she?"

"Dead."

"Oh."

The air was still. Silent. He perked up suddenly as if he remembered something else.

"She had a daughter, Merope. How is she?"

"Well. She has a daughter now. She grieves for a father she lost. She doesn't realise he lives, though not the same man that he was."

The man looked down at me, I thought I saw pity on his face for a fleeting moment. "And this daughter of hers, does she grieve as well?" My heart quickened. Moment of truth time after all.

"She doesn't,"

"And why not?"

"Because she can't grieve for a man she is talking to."

"Angeline, are you my granddaughter.?"

"I am."

"Master, Master! It is time! The boy has the prophecy!" Voldemort's head perked up, and he whipped out his wand, pointing it at me.

"You look so like her, you know? But Angeline, that daughter..."

"She will continue grieving for the father she lost."

"Good."

And then he was gone, and I was left alone in the atrium. My whole body was convulsing as I realised that I had just met him, my grandfather. It broke my heart to watch him sweep out, his cruel face gone in an instant. That was the monster Betty had loved. I never wanted to see him again. I never wanted to have to tell my mother that that man was her father. I would never tell anybody. I wanted no ties to him.

I could not help Harry. Nothing could help Harry. The man had no heart, no compassion. There was nothing I could do, no way I could be helpful. So I left, my mind numbed, back to Hogwarts.

I stayed up late in the common room, hugging my knees to my chest and trying to forget that night. I was still shaking, but less so. At some late time, Draco entered.

"Angeline!" he said, surprised as he saw me on the floor.

"Draco..." I choked, and then, finally, I began to cry. He ran to my side, gathering me up in his arms, stroking my hair, wiping the tears as they came. When finally they stilled, Draco looked at me, hard. His face went red as he stared, as if he was trying to memorise my entire body.

"Draco, what is it?"

"The call, Angeline. I have been called to service by a very powerful man."

"So?"

"Angeline, I can't see you any more. Every single person I love is in danger now, simply because I love them. I would do anything for you. That will be my greatest weakness." He said it so calmly, as if he had thought it all through. It was fact. There was nothing either one of us could do.

I shook my head. No. No, No, NO! "Y-you can't..."

"I have to,"

"You DON'T!" I roared, shoving him away from me and getting to my feet. "You can stay with me. You can love _me._"

"I can't, Angeline. I love you. Please believe me when I say I will never love another girl as much as I love you."

"Then how can you leave me?"

"Please, don't make this harder. The year is over tomorrow. Go home. Beauxbatons takes new girls for NEWTs. You'll like it there. Continue your wizarding training. Forget all about me. A war is coming Angeline. I don't want you here when it strikes."

"We'll fight the war together!" I yelled, delirious. He couldn't be leaving me. He couldn't just be giving up!

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm on the wrong side, the dangerous side. If we win, I don't want you to see the man I will be, and if we lose, they'll take you from me. I can't let that happen." He looked so forlorn, beaten. It was over. There was nothing I could do. I let the tears flow again, releasing loud sobs of agony as my heart began to tear at itself, ripping itself to shreds. Draco stood and slowly advanced. I didn't move. He took my chin and tipped it up. He brought his lips to mine. I pulled his face in as we kissed. The world melted into nothingness as we shared it. It was the seal of finality, the last bomb to my hollow chest. We kissed for the pain, for the loss, for love.

At some point, the heat and pressure of his lips were gone from mine, and he left. I fell to the floor, and let insanity wash over me, tugging me down into a deep depression. I wailed and wept like a sailor's wife staring at a storm. I hardly had the energy to pull myself up off the floor, pack my things and head home, where I curled up on the bed and stayed.

I went to Beauxbatons. I completed all my NEWTs. I am now a muggle attaché in the Ministry of Magic. Every day I wake, get dressed, and go to work. I haven't see Draco Malfoy since that night, but I pine for him every day.

At some point, I learnt to pick up the pieces of my heart and stick them back together to make it roughly whole. But there is no way to fill the cracks. There was once a scared boy, who dragged his pregnant love to a hospital and begged them to take her. _I ruined her, _he had said. Their history was doomed to be repeated by two young Slytherins some while later. Draco Malfoy ruined me, but somewhere in my heart, these words remain.

_Love is something well worth finding. Nothing lasts, but you must treasure it for the time that it lives, and never resent it when it perishes._

I love you, Draco Malfoy.

**Thank You.**


End file.
